#golden metal digits

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[blanchebees]

iii staring menacingly

Tip jar

[chainedanchor]

Some random metal gear bullshit to warm up

[intrepid-creations]

Not me turning my OCs into Tarot arcana even though I really don't think I have literally any justification for this theme in the story aside from "It's medieval and cool".

Nope.

11/17/23

[whimsifuzz]

[eldritch-spouse]

after some sort of “accident” in the shop, there comes to be a fleshlight that is bound to admin. everything that happens to it, admin can feel! <3 admin attempts to hide it but has to go deal with some important business and leaves it in the break room. what’s going down?

[Oooh nice!! I changed the source of the fleshlight a bit though. Fem reader.]

TW: Sex toy sharing (unsanitary); Dubcon; Double penetration in one hole.

You have absolutely no idea what this is.

It felt like a joke in poor taste, at first.

This... Fleshlight -Because it can only be that- Appeared in the break floor. A deep violet case with golden swirls around the rim, featuring an uncannily realistic mold of none other than your pussy.

So many things went through your mind as you picked it up. Who could have done this? Certainly, to be here on display, only one of your staff team could have concocted such an insult.

Perhaps Santi. He did always have the strangest and lewdest gifts for everyone. He'd offered sex toys molded after notable figures before, this wouldn't be entirely uncharacteristic out of him. Did he simply forget it here or is he planning to give it to someone?

If not Santi, then maybe Nebul. He does operate the shop, and toys of all kinky kinds hold no secrets for him. He could easily make a custom one, right? But he's not the type of monster man to have such a careless lapse and forget his fleshlight on the kitchenette counter like this. This would have to be intentional of him.

It could also be Fank-e. Lord knows that robot will get his metallic little hands on any kind of genital attachment and weird toy he can find. Maybe the creep wants to use a model of your vulva as his own genitals. You wouldn't put such past him. It's a lot more likely the mechanical menace could have gotten distracted by something and left the toy out in the open.

Humming, morbid curiosity makes you gently touch the depraved imitation, fingertips dipping to scissor the thing open when you notice that it's clean.

Instant regret washes over you.

The moment you do such, it's as if phantom digits pierced into your covered cunt and physically spread you out. The thing is dropped back onto the counter and you bend to clutch your panty-covered privates as a sting of pain punishes you.

For a blank moment, you almost believe that Lord Krulu had been the one to finger you. Even if he usually likes to announce their presence before using your form. But it can't be! Your higher has been busy all day, you can feel how diminished his connection to you is right now. This is not his doing.

Paranoid, you glance behind you just to be sure that there really is no one somehow screwing with you. Predictably, you're alone.

Eyes narrowed, you pick the toy up again and reshape your approach, this time making a slow stroke up the left labia, feeling it in your right with a scary level of intensity. The quality of the material itself is strikingly life-like, not just cheap silicone. It's even... Warm? Dear Lord, it's probably the same temperature as you, as your insides. The thought has a gross kind of shiver racing up your spine. Daringly, you thumb over the imitation of your clitoris, met with direct feedback in your own body which perfectly corresponds to the tentative circular motions of your index over the sensitive bundle of nerves.

You stop the moment your knees reflexively press forward.

This... Is magic. Which puts a new candidate on the table. The thought alone makes you scoff, could Patches truly be audacious enough to do this? No. Not at all. You don't doubt he'd take a toy molded in your vague resemblance to pathetically rut into- But actually connect said thing to your body? That's already a level of courage that can't be expected of the dullahan in question.

Unless... Ah, this can be the work of his trickster counterpart. That you find more believable.

A pulse in your pocket has you setting the plaything aside to check your phone, reading the text detailing your esteemed guest's arrival.

Maintaining ties to the Rings is imperative in this stage of Krulu's vision for the future. Hell and its denizens are apparently sources of great potential in your Lord-Master's eyes, and he's been very keen in keeping close ties to the fiendish rulership of said location. You're only too happy to help forge bonds with these demonlords, which means scraping around and trying to get to know them. Ironically, it falls upon you the responsibility to tempt them into seeking contact.

Your latest endeavor of this sort involves establishing an explorative partnership with one of the demonlords' sons. He's quite the character, and now that you know he has arrived at the front of The Clergy, you can't just leave royalty waiting.

Both hands busy with texting back a hasty reply, you panic as you try to guess where you could stuff this gross little thing away. Taking it with you is not an option, there's no pocket large enough to conceal the thing and its depraved outline.

Time is not on your side.

The meeting can't take that long, can it? What if you just... Left it in one of the cupboards above the kitchenette?

Yes, and then you'll come to retrieve it, interrogate the team to find which of these losers thought it was a bright idea to play with fire.

That'll do. Hopefully.

Opening a cupboard loaded with small plates and cups, you quickly stuff the fleshlight inside and make your way over to the elevator, fixing your hair and clothes to go greet someone of great importance.

Vinnel almost barges into the floor.

More of his coworkers had caught the ride up, talking amongst themselves idly, but the jester wasn't preoccupied with their small talk, he was ravenous.

The first item on his shift was a show he had been particularly looking forward to, an opportunity to test some bizarre new weaponry and a game whose rules he deliberated on for more than a week prior to the event itself. Needless to say, it was a display that took a lot of work, tears sweat and love poured into it- And fucking Hell did it pay off! He's ecstatic! And hungry. Starving.

Doing a good show always gets his stomach riled up.

Some flecks of blood still covering his suit, Vinnel is quick to dart to the kitchenette, ignoring anything and everything as he rummaged around for snacks that aren't there.

His temper spikes when the fridge is devoid of meals.

" Chef! " He barks, turning to the blue shroom monster in question, who is only now just setting his apron aside. Morell rises a brow. " You're slacking! "

The large monster scoffs into his scarf. " None o' you assholes got a fuckin' hint of shame, do ya?! " His locker door slams shut. " Ah ain't gonna cook for ya every single day! "

" But- What are we supposed to do then? Starve? " The waiter whines, making big twinkling magenta eyes at the other.

" Not fallin' for it. " Is Morell's flat response.

" Have you tried making your own food? " A bartender chimes in. " I know doing anything for yourself is challenging for you, but give it a try. "

" Rich coming from someone that can't cook for the life of him. "

The jester has entirely disconnected from the banter going on, a shred of hope driving him to keep searching fruitlessly. It's not as if he believes anything to be in the top shelves where cutlery is stored, but maybe one of them could be hiding some type of candy?

Slamming cabinets and cupboards open, the last thing he expects is for something to fall off them. So he nearly jumps in the air when a sizable object tumbles from the cupboard shelf right onto the carpeted ground.

The floor becomes silent, everyone stares blankly at the item in question for a pregnant pause.

Gloved orange digits pick the thing up, Vinnel bringing it closer to his mask. " Huh. "

He knows what it is exactly.

It looks very high-quality, and clean thankfully. Vinnel swears something about the model itself looks... Almost familiar. Hm. Nevertheless, laugher starts bubbling out his chest and he sways his head, juggling the thing.

" Ohohohoho!! " The next time the toy falls, Vinnel grips it viciously and points the thing right at-

" Morell! Such interesting kitchen utensils you have here... "

" Wha- That ain't mine! " The shroom retorts a little too fast.

" Suure. Then why was it in the cupboard, buddy? "

There's a glare, people around the chef are beginning to murmur amongst themselves.

" Like Hell ah know! For all I fuckin' know, ya could'a been tha one to put it there and fake tha whole thing- 'S yours! "

Vinnel titters, clapping as best as he can with his occupied hand. " Oh no, you think that lowly of little old me? " A feigned gesture of offense is met with no sympathy from the rest of the staff team, who do, in fact, think that lowly of the jester. " Unfortunately no, I don't usually perform tricks with fucktoys... Not the silicone ones anyway. "

" Well it ain't mine. " Morell insists. " Which one o' ya little sickos put a fuckin' pocket pussy in the kitchen? "

The suited performer, still vaguely examining the thing, finding it to be a little heavier than most of these toys tend to be given the materials involved in their manufacturing, swivels his head towards the next suspect.

" Sex pest! "

Santi, already very interested in the turn of events this day is taking, smiles as if just having been complimented. " Yes? "

" Why did you put your fucktoy here? " The performer looms over his demonic coworker, accusatory and demeaning. " So we could find it? So you could be gross about it, hm? "

The incubus hums, eyes on the toy rather than his frilled coworker. " Mm no, that's not my toy sweetheart. Though do let me have a closer look, maybe I can find a trace of our dirty little culprit... "

" Liar! " Vinnel spits.

Santi chuckles, making a move to grab the object yet thwarted when Vinnel angles it away.

" And why would I lie, love? If it was mine I'd tell you readily. I've brought toys to work before, haven't I? Never lied about it. "

And he's right, much to the jester's chagrin. The incubus could bring a cum-soaked dildo into this floor shamelessly, he wouldn't lie about a fleshlight.

Vinnel growls and floats back to point it directly at Nebul, but the shopkeeper beats him to the punch.

" I do not bring items from the shop into the break floor. Furthermore, I don't recognize that model. Does it have a brand? "

The jester checks, flipping the thing in all angles only to find neither words nor numbers printed anywhere. He glances to the crowd around him again, gears turning, machinating, until his attention falls on the dullahan, making Vinnel dart to him.

" You've been far too quiet this whole time, gourd brains... " He accuses, painted eyes narrowing.

Patches flusters, arms raised and leaning back. " What- What do you want me to say? I don't- "

That vegetable expression shifts suddenly, going from uncomfortable and anxious to complete focus. It's enough to make the jester tilt his head. " What? "

" That thing is brimming with magic. " He points out, leaning closer as if the gesture could reveal more by itself.

" ... Is it now? " Vinnel won't lie. It's a possibility. The fleshlight looks and feels anything but normal.

" You- You do know what that means, right? " Patches fumbles, squirming in mild discomfort. Those green cheeks acquire a tint that makes the jester's eyes roll in irritation behind his mask.

" Oh do fucking enlighten me, you masochistic kabocha. "

" Boys, boys- " Santi starts, tail wagging as he wedges himself between the two men. " We're missing the point. I've seen this before. That little thing is connected to some poor sap. And, if I'm not suddenly visually impaired, it looks extremely human to me. "

Another moment of silence stretches across the room

The jester's inked grin widens, and armed with a brand new realization, he starts feathering his digits along the edges of the pocket pussy's entrance, paying close attention to it. His mask nearly falls off when the thing physically seems to twitch. Uhuhu!

" No. " Belo begins, pointing a trembling finger at the demon. " You wouldn't dare suggest- "

" That our lovely Administrator has sent us a gift? " Santi challenges, tone sultry. " But of course, Belo! This is a reward for our hard work, and ohh, I just can't wait to make the most of it. "

Vinnel has now managed to slip one finger inside, completely tuned off to the conversation happening right next to him. Shock of all shocks, the thing hugs his digit as if it were real. And, as he experimentally removes the intrusion, a sheen of what can only be arousal wets his gloves. It really is you. He just fingered you. Hah!

" Filthy beast! You shall not touch that, this can't be right. " The angel's wings flex and twitch in growing agitation. As always, he seems very eager to try to choke the life out of Santi- And he would, if he didn't already know that the demon would immediately salaciously get off on it.

" But what if it is? What if she wants us all to take turns, experience her supple little cunt? " He taunts, surfing the room, gouging the reactions of his coworkers as most of them flush with sudden want at the idea. Yes, they like it as much as he does, Santi's just honest about it. " Would you reject her gift, Belo? "

The power in question is puffed like an angered parakeet, a myriad of emotions warring in those expressive, large eyes. " Control that foul tongue of yours lest I rip it off your worthless mouth and make your depraved clients very disappointed. "

" One day you'll revel in your own perversions. " He says it calmly, as if it were fact, grinning when the angel prepares another outburst.

" Guys. "

Vinnel is now two fingers deep into the magical fleshlight, a stupefied look on his face as he finds the toy -You- Welcoming him without resistance. You clench around him. Gods, he can't wait to stuff his cock in there, to fuck you, to rail you knowing that you can't do anything to stop him. At least not until you find him. Oh, he could make a game out of it!

" She's practically dripping. " The jester pulls both fingers out, spreading them to showcase a film of arousal between both digits.

" She's... Enjoying this. " Patches murmurs, breathy, fixated on the dirty gleam.

" Alright, if you're done being manchildren, I want to go first. " The slime suddenly pipes up, moving in on the stage performer.

" My ass you will! " Grimbly gets in the way, scoffing.

Vinnel finds a crowd of monsters suddenly gather around him, hands twitching for the item in his hands, eyes glinting like wolves corralling a chicken in its coop.

" Give me that, jester, it needs to be secured somewhere safely- "

" No no, give it to me, I'll make her feel so good! "

" Maybe if I have it, I- I can tell whose magic this is. "

" It was in mah cupboard, maybe she wants me ta be first! "

" Nuh uh!! " The jester suddenly shouts, floating higher in the air. " Finders keepers! Piss off! "

An ashy hand clamps around his ankle, jostling the bells there. " Were you not accusing us of being perverse? Let us take that dirty thing off your hands. " Nebul beckons.

As he's tugged down, Vinnel deforms his limbs inside his suit to twist away from the hands pawing at him. Growling, he pulls away, towards the window, towards the outside. If he can make it through the window, a significant portion of the staff team will be halted in their pursuit. He might get to hide with the toy and keep it all for himself.

Gallon, anticipating this, moves fast. Yellow tendrils coil over both the jester's legs and waist, trying to pull the extended arm back into the room even as Vinnel tries his damndest to keep it at out, his arm bending weirdly inside its red sleeve.

" Fuck off! All of you sad sacks of shit- This is MINE! " The slime gargles and screams, other hand clinging to the tall window's edge as tightly as possible. " I found it! "

" Stop strugglin' boy. We gonna talk this out. " The chef chuckles, successfully using brute strength to start pulling him inside.

The others help. He's fighting a losing battle and he knows it.

As soon as the performer feels a disturbance in the fabric of his suit's composition, he freezes. Primal, soul-shaking terror, grabs a hold of his body and he gasps, shrieking as he drops both hands to instantly claw, kick and try to mangle whoever's about to possibly rip his suit.

There's a chorus of pained cries and he's thrown to the ground, clinging to his form for dear life. Literally. Because if anything opened, he would potentially leak to the carpet and meet his end very quickly.

" Gah-! You useless clown! He dropped it! " The bat squeals, a high-pitched noise that grates on everyone's ears.

Vinnel startles. His possible panic attack and frantic body checking is halted by the sudden realization that yes, he did drop the fleshlight in his panic. That means...

The orange and purple menace stumbles to a stand shoving the group bent over the window aside to poke his head out and see for himself where the sex toy landed. After a few grunts and curses, the view is revealed.

On the grass of the garden outside the building, the toy landed sideways, rolling aimlessly over mutated flowers that lean away from the unidentified object. There's a beat of stillness.

Everyone knows it's only a matter of time until the thing is retrieved, possibly by a client, which means they'd have to waste time hunting for a random loser before getting to their prize. They exchange stares, aware that as soon as someone moves, the hunt is one, the game starts.

And yet, before even a step towards the elevator is taken, the scene below them changes.

A bench sat some distance away uncurls, black iron body turning into a grayed gangly mass with a wooden chest for a head, teeth poking out of it. Said monster seems to stretch himself before moving on all fours to inspect the thing.

Sybastian squats, picks up the fleshlight. Although his eyes are hidden in the great darkness of his objectum head, everyone can practically see the gears turning in his head.

The mimic glances up, perplexed yellow eyes staring dubiously at his coworkers.

" Syb. " Patches calls, reaching a hand out. " That is very special, leave it there. Do not touch it- "

Too late.

" No! No!! "

He found a toy, he's going to play with it. Sybastian starts hurriedly moving out of view.

" Motherfucker! I'll gut you! " Vinnel screeches, banging uselessly on the building's exterior.

" Blasted mimic... " Belo is the first to peel off the window. " What do we do now?! "

" Well... " Morell sighs, pulling his apron back on while everyone sulks and simmers.

" We go huntin'. "

Huh.

Isn't that one way to wake up...

Sybastian's nap had been disturbed when he sensed an impact nearby. It couldn't have been something very large, but part of his hunting routine involves being in that fine line between resting and alert enough to sense the faintest vibrations, categorize them as noteworthy or not on a subconscious level. His curiosity had him rising anyway, shedding his disguise and following the direction of the sound until he found...

A sex toy.

In the middle of the grass.

His eyes don't deceive him, he knows what kind of toy this is, has seen them in the undead's shop. They're the kind you can fuck into, small and convenient.

He was unsure as to why such a thing had been tossed out, so he looked around and found most of his coworkers already fixed on him. It didn't take a genius to piece together the fact that they had been likely squabbling over the thing.

Yet, oddly, it didn't smell used. In fact, it featured an odor Sybastian could swear he's had his face buried in before.

The mischief of his nature acted up, and the mimic crawled away with the toy held in his maw.

He knows the rest of them will come looking for him immediately, so the mimic scurries deep into the less stable parts of the garden- Where Hellion tends to dwell. The parts that can shift, remold and relocate themselves in the blink of an eye as the establishment periodically "refreshes" itself. It's a gamble, he admits, but it's the only place staff will hesitate to enter due to its volatile nature. Sybastian is more well-equipped to deal with these areas, given he spends most of the time in the garden, has learned many of its tricks.

Let them bump around like blind moles.

Eventually, Sybastian finds an area dense in plantlife, a good distance away from the main building already, and sensing no approaching threats, the mimic seats himself next to a wide trunk, spitting his conquest into his hands and taking the time to examine it.

It's a fancy fuck-pocket alright.

Curious about the scent, he drags the thin end of his tongue across the length of the artificial pussy, eyes widening when taste hits him. Not just any taste, arousal and wetness and- Human. A human he's put that same roving muscle upon before.

You.

Sybastian is certain these things aren't meant to have such specific tastes. He's not sure how such a thing came into being, a carbon sort of copy of your cunt, but he understands why the others were fighting over it. Syb would too.

A little thrill crawls along the length of his spine.

No time to waste, he better make use of this before he's accosted by a swarm of angry monsters.

The mimic drools and smiles as he pushes a good portion of his deep blue tongue past sweet folds and into the surprisingly warm, hugging insides of the toy. He removes his loincloth hastily and palms his already chubbing cock to the thought of you flipping your work outfit up and spreading yourself out so he can have full access to that puffy pussy. The mental image of your provocative, inviting smile while you grab onto the fat of your ass has him moaning, dick pulsing.

Fucking the pathetic little escapists is one thing, but nothing beats your delicious, perfect holes. You have everyone here by the balls and Sybastian is no different.

Releasing a filthy murr of anticipation, the mimic's shackles rattle as he brings the now thoroughly slobbered pocket pussy down, teasing it along the head of his cock.

Oh, if all of them feel this real then he really has to bother Nebul for one.

Sybastian swears he feels it quiver against his length, panting as soon as he starts sinking it onto his thick length. The moment his tip pops in, he rumbles, feeling its walls immediately clinging to him, spasming in such a life-like manner he can't help bucking into it, greedily and impatiently stuffing more of himself into the exceptionally pleasurable fucktoy.

He couldn't take it slow even if he wanted to, claws curling viciously around the purple tube as he starts jerking himself off with it in earnest, loud groans echoing amidst his panting. It feels exactly like you! Hot and tight and spongy and so so good, he loves to fuck you- This is going to be his favorite toy ever.

Syb's hips snap into a grossly desperate rhythm, a lurid plap of skin on wet artificial skin as his balls hit it with every senseless rut upwards. His maw closes slightly, the mimic's eyes glaze and he pictures you there. On his lap, back turned to him, juicy ass on full display while you put both palms on his gangly knees and ride the monster for all he's worth, milking his cock and drooling like you've never had better.

Gods, if Sybastian focuses enough, he can almost feel the softness of your rump on him with each thrust. He wishes he could grab onto your waist, onto the cushion there, and use you the same way he's using this copy to breed into.

You're the hottest, prettiest little human he'll ever have the opportunity to stuff himself into.

There isn't a single intelligent thought in Sybastian's head when he starts grinding the pocket-pussy down, the tensing of his legs and abdomen bringing him ever closer to that sweet release, and he's looking forward to flooding the fucktoy full of his cum, feeling it clench heavenly around him the same it has been for a while now.

With one last, obscenely loud slap of his meat into the fleshlight, Sybastian howls and throbs hard, coming undone with great intensity and melting onto the grassy ground, the feeling of his own hot jizz spurting out the toy and leaking past his balls to coat this thighs a depraved sign of his victory.

He lies there, boneless from his own orgasm, hand still clumsily dragging your toy up and down his now spent cock, and all is well for a blissful moment.

...

Until-

" Bravo. Mm, good show... "

Sybastian peers up, not as sharp as he would be now that he's disoriented from cumming. A pair of glowing green eyes poise on him, and none other than the incubus makes it past the foliage of this part of the garden.

He's vaguely surprised the other was brave enough to come here.

" What? " Santi places a hand to his hip. " Thought I wouldn't find you? I could smell you getting off like a rabid animal, you need more than greenery to hide from me. "

Fair. Syb was being loud too. He doesn't let go of the toy however, suspiciously allowing the demon to lewdly scheme the dirty mess between his legs.

" Hand me the fleshlight, love. "

There's a growl. Santi frowns.

" Oh come now, you greedy slut, I'll make sure you get something out of it too. " He lulls, drawing closer slowly, to the point where he stands in front of the mimic, before crouching.

Sybastian keeps growling faintly, pulling out of the fleshlight to hold it away from the high-ranker, a gross pool of cum still oozing off the recently used thing. He doesn't miss the way the incubus' nostrils flare.

" Why, I'll even tell you a little secret, hm? "

Santi crawls between the mimic's legs, collecting a bead of the monster's cum and putting it to his mouth, luridly sucking the fluid off his finger before spitting onto his palm and using it to stroke Sybastian.

What begins as overstimulated shocks that force his legs to twitch and squirm away is forcibly turned into a brand new wave of arousal and need. He doesn't fight it, letting himself get stimulated anew and only offering a little bit of resistance when Santi pulls the fucktoy out of his grasp.

If he's here... Where are the others?

" What if I told you this little thing here- " Santi starts, selfishly and deliberately fingering globs of cum out of the toy for his own amusement. Syb notes the rigid length bobbing between his coworker's dark thighs. " Is loaded with magic? "

A toothy head tilts in confusion. Sybastian kind of assumed there was something unknown at play here, he just can't tell the implications.

" You can smell it, right? You know who this reminds you of. "

Syb's eyes widen.

" Did you also know that this fleshlight is connected to our Admin? She felt everything you just did to her, Sybastian. " The incubus chuckles, letting his drool seep onto the rim of your pussy, then spreading the aphrodisiac fluid over your lips, circling you clit with it languidly.

Sybastian doesn't need to be a scientist to know you're probably losing your mind by now.

" Oh you fucked her open like a rabid bull. I wish I could see her state right now- I bet she's sweating a storm in her clothes, her own cum and wetness dripping down her legs, too cock-drunk to speak! What a good job you did... "

Sybastian spaces off slightly, picturing what the results of his careless and selfish fucking must have reduced you to. He almost feels bad, if the image the Lust demon painted in his head wasn't so awfully erotic. He literally used you.

" Mmm, now, let's give her something to really scream about, big boy. "

In a blur of movement, Santi presses against the gray monster, both lengths squeezed together, pumped hastily a couple times but with practiced precision that makes Syb groan. And then, much to his growing amusement and shock, the incubus hovers your toy above them both, strings of falling seed used to further lubricate both of them.

The demon looks to be burning with anticipation, shuddering as he presses the thing down.

" ... Won't. Fit. " The mimic eventually mumbles, wondering if Santi's intent is to actually rip you open.

" Don't be silly- " There's a rasped snicker. " I've seen her bounce on Lord Krulu's lap. Just lie back and let me make this memorable for the three of us. "

It's a stretch. A fat stretch, but it seems the magical properties of the toy are indeed aligned with your own physical limitations, because the fleshlight gradually accepts both monsters, clenching with mind-melting pressure against both leaking cocks.

Santi is the first to moan low and needy, claws sinking into the bark of the tree his coworker leans against so he can steady himself in the face of such sudden ecstasy. Sybastian follows with his own trill, their members twitching and pulsing, trapped against each other, within you.

When Syb makes a disoriented motion to try and grasp the thing, make it move over them both, the incubus snaps his teeth at him in a language the other understands, determined to control the pace. And control he does, viciously pumping them both off, twisting, grinding the thing frequently.

A pace that would otherwise certainly chafe both males is now sloppy and soaked, lubricated by Syb's seed, your wetness and Santi's precum. They fuck themselves silly, trading groans and frantically bumping their hips, one moment thrusting in perfect sync, the next selfishly seeking their own pleasure.

The incubus' tongue hangs and he tosses his head back when a certain familiar pace of contractions around him is felt.

" Oh- Ohhh fuck- " He calls to the other. " Feel that? Yeah? " Sybastian nods and makes a strangled ambiguous noise. " She's cumming. Hard. "

Both of them grow fevered, preening at the knowledge.

" I hope she's fucking screaming. I hope she's trying to guess who we are. "

The fiend had always been too good with his obscene little comments, Sybastian's second, overstimulated orgasm is flayed out of him with no ounce of mercy. Santi gets almost hysterical with the conquest, getting high off the power he's exerting over both you and the mimic, climbing to his peak and letting his eyes roll back when the first pulses of an approaching end seize him.

The only reason he doesn't scream when he's suddenly grabbed by the horns is because there was already little breath in his lungs to begin with.

A pair of metallic, sticker-adorned arms loom from above, rigged hands wrenching his head back to face a slightly cracked visor displaying a deceitfully friendly face.

" 1'll B3 t4k1Ng 7H4t N0w. :] "

Fuck.

His robotic coworker uses superior reflexes to grab the toy, wrench it off both monsters, and bolt out of sight with surprising speed for a being of such immense density.

Instincts claw at the hellish monster. He only stands there for a stunned second, clutching nothing but air, before he's snarling like a feral creature and racing after the party bot, pushing many of his other coworkers away.

Grimbly gains on all of them, but when the incubus drops onto all fours the two collide and roll away in a mess of shouting limbs.

Gallon passes by them and laughs, then gets lashed aside by a whip lit on dullahan fire.

Vinnel is thrown across the garden, apparently launched away by Fank-e cackling in the distance.

This isn't ending any time soon...

[dollwritesarchive]

𝐰𝐞𝐚𝐤 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮’𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 — 𝐠𝐢𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐨 𝐠𝐢𝐨𝐯𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐚

𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 ∣ smut ( minors dni ), fem!reader, fiancé!giorno, don!giorno, fingering ( f!receiving ), begging, edging ( him ), virgin!needy!reader, all characters featured are 18+ 

𝗶𝗺𝗽𝗼𝗿𝘁𝗮𝗻𝘁 ∣ I AM REWATCHING GOLDEN WIND SO ITS THE PERFECT TIME TO OBSESS OVER GIORNO AGAIN. posted for my hoe for the holidaze event.  do not repost or translate. please reblog && leave feedback. not proofread so there’s probably mistakes. thanks for reading <3

Giorno Giovanna was a difficult man to be betrothed to. 

not because he was calloused or paid no attention to you— it was actually the opposite. your fiancé doted relentlessly on you, always allowing you to sit in his office with him while he worked ( even during meetings in which his men would give you uncertain looks as they reported sensitive information to him ), and he’d always reach for your hand, hold it on your knee and allow his thumb to stroke the delicate skin as he spoke. he also loved to kiss you, and he would do so whenever he had a moment to do so. even if there was an emergency that required his immediate attention within the ranks; on his way out the door, he would always take the time to tilt your chin up so that he could trace your couplet with his own. 

and it was this amount of dizzying affection that made it so impossible to keep yourself from lusting after him. 

but Giorno was, first and foremost, one of the most chivalrous men you’d ever met. even with his Gangster status, he was always trying to do the right thing when it came to his future with you. and, unfortunately, one of his intentions had always been to keep your pure and virtuous until the wedding, so as not to shame your family. 

“I don’t want you to regret it.” he’d whispered to you once in the dark as he held you. you’d begged him to just take you already— traditions be damned. he wasn’t having any of it. “I want you to be ready to give yourself to me, and not just physically.” he’d kissed your temple when you grumbled about being ready, and chuckled softly. “Wait it out. If not for yourself, be good for me. I want to love you for the first time knowing you’re mine and I’m yours.” 

but that didn’t mean he wasn’t willing to satisfy your urges any other way he possibly could. 

“Please, don’t stop.” 

you were whimpering, back arching against the door he had you pinned to. Giorno had one hand pressed into the door behind your head to keep you from hitting it when you squirmed, and the other was moving under your skirt. with the long, lithe fingers you’d come to know so damn well, he could make you tremble and beg until you wanted to collapse on the floor in a heap of pathetic sobs. the first two curled inside, the svelte tips massaging a cluster of hypersensitive nerves that had you rolling your head on your shoulders, pressing it back against the back of his hand, and moaning. 

“D—Don Giovanna—“ 

but he frowns, pressing his forehead to yours. “My name,” he murmurs, allowing his lips to dance only inches from yours as he pumps his fingers deeper. you could feel the chill of metal as his rings, scattered on his remaining digits, press against your netherlips— he’d been considerate enough to take the two off of his fingers he intended to use on you, and they lay forgotten on the large, mahogany desk a few feet away. your hands were gripping his shoulders, but they slid over the expanse of his chest as it rises and falls with heavy breathing. you’d already untangled his braid, and his golden tresses hung around his face and shoulders like curtains, billowing as your ragged breath hits the strands. his shirt was also open, and you use the rare opportunity to dig your nails into the pads of muscles in his chest. “Say my name.” they were unyielding, but you already knew that. you could feel just how solid he was underneath his clothes when he pulled you in for a loving kiss or hugged you close at night. 

“Giorno…” you mewl, rocking your hips forward to meet his skillful pumping. “Giorno!” 

he moans, too. and it’s such a beautiful sound. 

pressing his body closer to yours, he nuzzles his face in your neck to kiss and suck all over, finding your sweetest spots in mere seconds, while his pace between your thighs picked up. you could tell he was enjoying it, too, breathing heavily on your skin before latching on to leave his signature in a love bite that would be easily covered by your collar. 

“Please— let me touch you, too…” you were hesitant, because you could feel him grinding a firm lump in his pants against your thigh, trying to relieve the pressure he felt, but you’d never been able to get your hands on it. but, you allow your hands to fall to his belt, the very tips of your fingernails dipping underneath to tease the faint trail of blonde hair that no doubt led to your desire. “Giorno, I want to feel you…” 

“Not yet,” he whispered, and you gripped his belt, frowning. he must’ve felt you inhale, ready to protest, because he pulls away from your neck to smother your mouth in fierce kisses, curling and twisting his fingers against your fluttering walls until you’re whining and pliable. “I’m dying to be inside you…” he moans into your mouth, pressing his body against yours. you could feel the tent jabbing at his zipper and you know it must be just hardly keeping his erection contained. it must be painful. “I want to feel you, too, amorina,” he crooned, breathless, using your very favorite pet name. “I’m starved for you. I’m just barely able to resist the urge to lay you on my desk. If I even feel your soft hands wrap around me, I’ll lose that battle.” 

your eyelids are heavy, flittering slowly, and you roll your hips to meet the palm of his hand. he was drawing you closer and closer to the edge, and you knew he was trying to distract you. “I want you to fuck me, Giorno.” you moaned, and you could feel every muscle he had go taut beneath his skin. the specter of a pinky blush was raising in his cheeks, olive eyes staring into yours. you take this opportunity to hitch one of your legs on to his hip, hooking your ankle against the small of his back to pull him closer. “I don’t want to wait anymore, please… please just give it to me!” 

Giorno’s mouth hung slack, his hips jutting forward as if instinctively trying to give in to your begging, and he presses your buttons from the inside with the pads of his fingers. your belly ties in knots and you swoon. “I can’t,” he whispered, breathless, and you squirm. you’re coming undone even as he refuses to give you what you really want. “I gave you my word when I put this ring on your finger,” his free hand slips from behind your head to reach between you and grasp your hand, pulling it up to his mouth so that he could kiss the jewel in the center, “that I would do… everything… I could to take care of you. Didn’t I?” 

you nod, moaning his name under your breath like a broken mantra. you wanted to argue, and tell him that you would be better taken care of if he would just strip you down and fuck you right here, right now, but you knew that wasn’t the case. because Giorno didn’t just mean physically. when he promised to take care of you, he meant to keep you safe, fed, spoiled. he wanted to keep your reputation as pristine as it was before you were engaged to the Passione Boss. 

“I intend to keep my promise.” he moans, his golden brows furrowed, as if it also pains him to say it. but Giorno’s resolve is strong, and you know that he means it. he kisses the ring again, and this time, your finger, too. 

“Damn you for being so— responsible—“ you whimper. you tried to poke your bottom lip out into a childish pout, but his digits were working too skillfully on your nerves, pulling the orgasm out of you, and you allow your mouth to hang open so you can cry for him freely. 

he chortles a bit, fondly, and kisses you again to muffle your sounds as you get loud. no doubt, his guards with their heads just on the other side of the door was getting an earful. hell, maybe even Mista would be red faced and unable to look you in the eyes when he escorted you to the car that would take you home to wait for your husband-to-be’s return. his hand slows in tandem with your aftershocks once you’ve cum, allowing you to ride his palm at your speed until you’ve come to a shivering, panting stop. “I’ll give you every ounce of pleasure that I can with my fingers until you’re officially my wife. As often as you’d like.” he husks, slowly breaking the heated kiss to pepper your forehead with a litter of slower, softer pecks. “And, when the night finally comes that I can give every part of myself to you, I promise to worship your body with my mouth, my hands, and my cock until you can’t possibly keep your eyes open or your legs from trembling. Amorina, I promise that, as your husband, I’ll not stop until we’re both in tears.” 

reluctantly, you allow your leg to drop to the floor, but you nod, throwing both arms around his neck, and you lean in to kiss his jaw. “Giorno Giovanna,” you purr against his lips, turning your head to allow them to fit better against yours. “Is there no way to change your mind once it’s made up?” 

he smiles again, and shakes his head, both hands finding your waist to hold you steady so he can deepen the kiss you initiated. after a moment or two, he pulls back. “Every time I kiss you, another pebble falls from the wall of my resolve. We’d better hold the wedding soon.” there’s a faint knock, three taps. Mista. he called out to Giorno that the car was here, and Giorno sighs, using his clean hand to caress your cheek. he didn’t want to send you away so soon, but you know he didn’t have a choice. 

nibbling on your own lip, you take his wrist and guide it back beneath your skirt, allowing his fingers to rub against your slick one more time, and gather your essence upon them. “Don’t stop thinking of me.” you demand, batting your eyelashes. when you release his wrist, he brings his hand up to his face and inhales deep. you didn’t miss the way he shudders when he catches your scent on his shiny fingers. 

“I would be the world’s biggest fool if I did.” 

[fanaticsnail]

WIP Wednesday (Friday)

Thank you @rorywritesjunk for the tag. I am so looking forward to the Howl's Au you're doing!

Here is a cut from the next installment of Doffy's pollen I've been working on for the past little while. If there's something on my WIP list you're curious about, I'm happy to give a little snippet of what I've been chipping away at.

Play Stupid Games, Win Stupid Prizes: Doflamingo x Reader Part 2

Synopsis: You've been invited to a soiree at the World Government HQ at the request of your friend, Maria, who is attending with her latest beau, Bogard. Doflamingo intentionally didn't ask you to attend on his arm, and is attempting to make you jealous by bringing two of his concubines with him. You decide to 'get even' by suggesting Sir Crocodile aid you in making him jealous in return.

Word Count: 460 (Just a snippet of a larger fic)

Context: You and Doflamingo have a love-hate relationship. He loves you, you hate him. He tried to drug you with the dust of the lust plant, only for your drinking glasses to be swapped at the last minute. He was in need of a reprieve and coerced you to "help him out". You did, but it doesn't make you hate him any less.

What to expect in this next installment: Drinking, jealous Doflamingo, sloppy drunk Doflamingo, pathetic Doflamingo, kissing Sir Crocodile, enjoying the company of Sir Crocodile, Doflamingo cornering you in a private room....

“Sir Crocodile,” you arch your back further on the bar and look up at him through your eyelashes, “Would you be up for a little game?” He arches his brow up, placing his cigar in his teeth before breathing in a gulping lungfull of sour smoke.

“Up to no good again are you?” He asked, the cool rumble of his voice shaking your spine in joyful anticipation. You nodded, subtle enough not to draw attention away from Doflamingo as he continued consuming his concubines’ mouths vigorously. “State your terms,” Sir Crocodile asked with a light purr.

“An exchange, sir,” you cocked your head, playfully biting your lip as you hummed at him, “I’ll buy you a glass of anything you want, if you would grant me a single kiss.” Sir Crocodile’s interest peaked, his eyes widening ever so slightly as you continued your suggestion. 

“Doflamingo is attempting to make me jealous,” you noted, prompting Crocodile to look at him from the corner of his eye, “And I simply do not care.” Crocodile hummed in thought, enjoying another deep drag from his cigar, nodding at you to resume your explanation. 

“I don’t want him, and I need him to know I don’t want him,” you confessed as Crocodile placed his cigar in the steel tray beside him, “I would rather chew glass than endure his attention a moment longer, so I thought perhaps if I were to enjoy the attention of another,” you drew up your index and middle fingers on the bar, playfully walking the digits atop the mahogany surface, “He might leave me in peace.” 

“And I was the easier mark to make between all those here present?” Sir Crocodile hunched down to your level, looking deeply into your eyes with his stalking orbs. 

“Not at all, sir,” you smirked, eyes darting between his with flirtatious mischief, “I chose you because I thought, one: Sir Crocodile would likely need something interesting to cure his boredom amongst the marines and fellow warlords,” you inched your fingers ever closer to his golden hook, looking down at it while you hovered your fingertips over the metallic surface, “And, two: Sir Crocodile is the most handsome man in this room, and it would be an absolute delight to hold his attention, even if naught for a moment.” 

A slow chuckle emitted from deep within his throat, his eyes falling half-lidded as his smile grew wider and more playful beneath his scarred cheeks. 

“A single drink for a single kiss,” he confirmed with a curt nod, his right hand collecting yours from atop his hook and pressing a gentle kiss on your knuckles, “Or a bottle of my choosing, and you would be more than welcome to continue singing my praises atop my knee for the night, Princess.”

[10piecechickennuggy]

Happy Birthday, Captain - Law x Fem!Reader - Oneshot

DISCLAIMER: I do not own One Piece or the art featured above. This is a fan created work.

Y/n stared at the calendar, uncertainty wavering through her stomach and causing nervous bouts of nausea. In her lap sat a beautifully wrapped box, its yellow speckled paper adorned with a brightly colored bow. Trembling fingers toyed with the shiny ribbon, bending it slightly as a sigh fell from painted lips.

October sixth. The date mocked her from across the room, circled with enthusiasm and boasting in large penmanship “Captain’s Birthday!” 

It had taken several of her crewmates’ begging, along with her own, to convince their grumpy captain to agree to any sort of celebration. 

“It’s just another day. There’s no need to make a big fuss over my aging.” 

She could still hear his gruff voice as the scene replayed in her memory. After enough pestering, he’d finally relented to a small gathering in the Polar Tang’s mess hall accompanying tonight’s dinner. There would be a cake prepared by the ship’s cook, Jean Bart, and everyone intended to present a gift of some sort. But the sleep deprived captain had adamantly refused any additional festivities.

That was all right though. Being able to celebrate his birthday, no matter how grandiose or quiet, was all that mattered. She hoped that despite his initial refusal, she’d be able to make this day a special one for him.

“Ouch!” Stinging pain erupted from her fingertip that had been manipulating the ribbon. Looking down she saw crimson begin to pool lazily on the skin’s surface, threatening to overflow onto the pristine wrapping below.

Quickly, she stood and placed the box down before rushing out of her bedroom. Hurried footsteps carried her towards the sickbay, the injured finger having been thrust into her mouth instinctually. The taste of metal coated her tongue.

Entering the room, she immediately began searching for the first aid kit. Cabinets were opened and rummaged through one handed before a cough brought her attention to the desk tucked along the room’s far wall.

Turning with a sheepish expression, she smiled around the digit still held between her lips. Golden eyes framed in dark circles bore a quizzical look as her captain stood from his seat. A sigh of indignation escaped Law as tattooed hands removed a pair of glasses from atop his nose before placing them, folded neatly, beside the open medical textbook he’d been studying. 

“What have you done this time?” His tone was not unlike a parent’s - energy lacking and patience worn thin by far too many demands.

Her eyes dropped to the floor as the finger was removed from her mouth, fresh blood seeping from the open wound within seconds of air exposure. “Just a paper cut.” She held the injured digit up for him to inspect.

Law’s expression morphed from one of annoyance to a softer look. He moved past his subordinate swiftly, opening a cabinet she’d yet to search and withdrawing a package of bandages.

The Surgeon of Death. Dr. Heart Stealer. Trafalgar D. Water Law. Captain of the Heart Pirates. He went by many names, some more appealing than others. But to her, he was simply her beloved captain.

As he reached up once more to close the cabinet door, she felt her eyes wander south. Those spotted jeans were quite tight, leaving little to the imagination. 

“See something you like, Y/n-ya?”

Her gaze snapped up immediately, a deep blush overtaking her features. He’d caught her, and the look he wore only added to her embarrassment. She couldn’t decide which was more enticing; to wipe that smug smirk from his face or kiss it. Her brows furrowed in annoyance.

Of course she harbored romantic feelings for her captain. Who wouldn’t? The man was tall, dark, and handsome. A dedicated doctor, a skilled fighter, and a fearless leader. If only he wasn’t so painfully aware of his own charms. 

“Shut up.” She sounded like a child as she turned away from him, her arms crossed and cheeks puffed out in mock defiance. Law only chuckled as he took her hand in his, gently wrapping a bandage around her injured digit.

“Careful with the attitude.” A brief pause elapsed, the man seemingly mulling over his words. “I’d hate it if I had to punish you.” His voice betrayed his shit eating grin.

A playful gasp escaped the woman’s lips as she yanked her hand away, clutching the appendage close to her chest. “I am very well behaved, thank you.” 

“Is that right?” A devious glint formed in his eyes as he moved closer to his companion. When she’d backed into the wooden desk, muscular arms seized the opportunity to trap her against the large surface. Leaning in close, Law growled before speaking into her ear with a husky tone. “Then maybe I should reward you instead.”

What was happening? Her captain had never shown such interest in her before, nor had he ever made any type of advance on her. Was checking out his ass really all it took to break his stoic demeanor? 

“Umm, Captain?” She looked up at him with wide, doe eyes. Trying her best to look innocent, thick lashes fluttered beneath raised eyebrows. She’d hoped to confess her feelings during tonight’s birthday celebration, but this was completely unexpected.

As if being awoken from a trance, Law shook his head before backing away from his subordinate. “Sorry, Y/n-ya.” He rubbed the back of his neck while directing his gaze anywhere but at her. “I don't know what came over me. Please, just forget that anything happened.”

Was he hurt? Had she misread his intentions? No. He was obviously trying to make a move on her, and she’d chosen to react surprised instead of receptive. But more than that, was her captain being vulnerable with her right now? 

“Hey.” A gentle hand came to rest on the man’s arm, bringing his attention down to her smiling face. “I was just a little surprised.”

At her admission, Law’s eyes morphed from guilty to hopeful. Seeing this change, an idea popped into the woman’s mind. “Would you like one of your gifts a little early?”

Confusion crossed Law’s features for the briefest of moments before his companion lifted to her tiptoes and gently pressed her lips to his. The kiss was soft, careful - as though she were afraid anything more would cause the man before her to crumble. She lingered for only a second or two, but the affection she expressed in that small span seeped into Law’s soul like a burning flame. Her retreat began before he could even think to kiss her back.

When she pulled away and allowed her feet to fall flat, there was a deep blush covering both their faces. The pair remained silent like, her hand still on his arm and their forms a breath away. Their gazes were locked, conveying a million emotions and sentiments without a single word. 

And then Law smiled.

Not his usual smirk. Not a smug grin. But a true, genuine smile.

“Happy Birthday, Captain.” Her words came as a timid whisper, afraid to break this pristine moment they’d created.

“Happy birthday, indeed.”

***

“For he’s a jolly good fellow! For he’s a jolly good fellow! For he’s a jolly good fellow! Which nobody can deny!” 

The Heart Pirates sang loudly, a chorus of off-key voices echoing throughout the Polar Tang’s metal halls. The mess hall had been decorated with banners and balloons, confetti strewn about and music playing in the background. A table had been set to one side, hosting a large pile of gifts and sweets, centered around a large cake reading “Happy Birthday!” In yellow and blue frosting.

The man in question currently sat before his entire crew, a conical hat strapped to his head and a scowl of disapproval painted across his face. His ears were ringing as a result of their awful singing. His stomach hurt from all the cake they’d made him eat. And the damned hat he’d been forced to wear was causing a massive headache. When would this annoying celebration end?

“Captain! You should open your presents now!” Bepo’s voice was full of enthusiasm as he brought a pile of wrapped gifts to his friend.

Law took the first package and thanked the polar bear before opening it. 

“That’s from me!” Shachi spoke through the crowd, his anticipation palpable.

When the bright red paper had been removed, Law held a small stuffed bear with the Heart Pirates’ jolly roger embroidered onto its chest. The bear looked similar to Bepo, though its white fur wasn’t nearly as soft as the real thing. 

“Thanks.” Law’s tone was flat as he sat the toy down and reached for another present.

Many of the crew had gotten him gifts that were surprisingly thoughtful. Ikkaku had gifted him new cleaning supplies for his sword. Penguin had gotten him a new lab coat with his name and Jolly roger printed across the breast pocket. Even the stuffed animal from Shachi was right up his alley - though he’d never admit aloud his love for all things soft and fuzzy. 

When it came time to open Bepo’s present, Law was met with a new hat. It looked similar to his old, circular brimmed one. though this new hat more closely resembled a baseball cap. The fabric was the same soft, speckled design he was fond of. Without a word, he removed his current headwear and replaced it.

“Me next! Me next!” Y/n came forward carrying her gift to Law. Bright yellow paper mimicked the submarine’s exterior and the spots splattered across it were reminiscent of his hat and jeans.

Law took the box gingerly, surprised when it was heavier than he’d anticipated. He raised an eyebrow in puzzled amusement before noticing the woman’s stance. 

She bore a wide smile, her eyes dancing with anticipation. As though her energy were too great for her body to contain, she hopped lightly from one foot to the other. The sound made a little tip tap with each step against the steel floor. 

Law couldn’t help but chuckle at her childlike excitement.

Placing the hefty gift onto the table, Law removed the wrapping and couldn’t believe what lay before him. There, sitting on the table in pristine condition sat the complete saga of Sora, Warrior of the Sea. The plastic shrink wrap still clung to each volume, catching the fluorescent lights in streaks of artificial shine.

“How-?” He was speechless. He hadn’t told anyone of his near obsession with the comics. Sure, every kid in the North Blue knew of the fictional battles between Sora and Germa 66. But they were in the Grand Line - most of his crew were from scattered parts of the world and wouldn’t even know the series existed.

His heart swelled at the amount of love and care his entire crew had shown him through their gifts.

“I saw you eyeing it a few islands ago.” She spoke with a smile on her face, knowing she’d struck gold.

“Thank you, Y/n.” Law spoke from his heart, the awe and appreciation he felt evident. He quickly rose and pulled her into a hug, leaving the entire crew stunned.

For the second time that day, the woman found herself uttering three words which she hoped conveyed her feelings as they reached her captain.

“Happy Birthday, Captain.”

[slowburningechoes]

jewelry of every kind

no thoughts except Spencer wearing MGG’s rings…

Summary: Spencer tries out wearing more accessories and you decide to show him just how much you love them.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Content Warning: 18+ Content (NSFW/NSFM), smut, hand kink, finger sucking, choking, fingering, piv sex

Word Count: 1.3k

“Those are new,” you say, motioning to Spencer’s hands as he skims through the contents of a file with sleep.

Scattered across his fingers were four golden rings of various sizes and shapes, but the one that took you by surprise most was the large round pinky ring.

“Hm,” he mumbles, jolting is head up from his work, his sleepy eyes meeting yours. “Oh, these? I’ve always had them sitting around, I figured it was probably time I wore them.” Then, he went back to his work.

You cozy yourself onto the couch cushion beside where Spencer was still hunched over, running his lengthy fingers down each page. Normally, this alone was enough to do you in, but the addition of how his hands looked donning jewelry made your head spin.

“I like them,” you caught his right hand as he reaches the end of a page, bringing it up to your face, “a lot…”

Before Spencer could switch his brain off from work mode, you had taken his thumb into your mouth and began to suck on it with just enough pressure to make his nerves stand on end.

The paper still in his free hand fell onto the coffee table and an uncontrollable gasp came from his lips.

"Oh it's like that?" Spencer inquired, watching you intensely as you looked at him with wide pleading eyes.

"Mhm," you hum, causing a vibration that ran up from his thumb and up to his neck. "Makes me want them inside of me so bad."

Without warning, Spencer draws you to straddle his lap and into a passionate kiss. As his tongue found his way into your mouth to explore, his fingers drifted to part your robe where he discovered your bareness underneath.

"God, y/n... nothing underneath?" he asks, slipping a finger down your slit and feeling your warmth already pooling. "And so wet for me already."

His finger dips further into your center and the cool metal of one of his rings brushes against your clit, eliciting an instinctive moan to cry from your throat.

"Does it feel good, angel?" Spencer purred, slipping another finger in and curling them to hit your sensitive spot.

Another cry bellowed from your lips, throwing your head back in the process. "Yes, yes so good, Spence."

The arch of your back made your robe come completely undone, revealing your swollen breasts. Without missing a beat, Spencer brought his mouth to one of them, biting them gently. As he did so, his fingers pumped in and out of you faster, the metal providing a stinging cold sensation against the heat growing from your wetness and the friction. You feel an ache begin to grow in your abdomen and pressure build as he increases the dexterity of his fingers, eventually you find your release around them slicking his fingers with even more of your arousal.

As you come down from your high, Spencer slowly removes his fingers and brings them to your parted lips with a devilish grin. You run your tongue in between them, your arousal coating your tongue before taking his digits completely in your mouth, nearly touching the golden accessories that had started your obsession.

Your cum tasted musky and sweet upon your tongue, but you wanted so desperately for Spencer to taste it, too - so you kissed him deeply, gliding your tongue against his.

"You always taste so good, baby," he growls, the feeling of his erection growing underneath you.

"Mmm, you know what? I've been wanting to wear a certain piece of jewelry again for awhile," you state, unbuckling his pants while grinding against him lightly.

Spencer could hardly form words with you touching his bulge, but he managed to croak, "W-which one is that?"

As you pulled his pants completely to the ground, springing his cock up to his navel, you leaned in to whisper, "Your hand as my necklace."

A guttural groan escaped him and it sounded like a melody to your ears. You glided your folds on top of his erection before sinking down on him at an achingly slow pace, causing Spencer to firmly grasp one of your ass cheeks and the other to grip the back cushion of the couch.

When you reached the point of being completely full of him, Spencer suddenly began to fuck up into you with growing force and pace. Taking you by surprise, you whimper and attempt to regain your pace by placing your hands upon his braced chest. Without warning, his hand shoots to clasp around your throat, squeezing gently.

"Is this what you meant, angel?" he asked, adding extra pressure and thrusting into you with more force.

You let out a desperate moan and respond, "Y-yes, sir. Doesn't it look so pretty on me?"

"Yes," Spencer rubs his thumb against the peak of your throat and admires it as he speaks. "It looks like it was made for you."

The pressure of his hand around your throat makes your arousal grow and drip down onto the base of his cock freely. The sounds of your bodies slapping to together with a perfected rhythm in combination with your exchanges of whimpers and moans make your body rise with chills. His ringed hand clasping your throat, the way he looked in ecstasy with his eyes rolled back, and the way that he completely filled you made you closer and closer to your second climax.

"I love you so much, y/n - fuck," Spencer huffed, his cock growing harder with every sloppy thrust.

His hand moves from your throat to intertwine through your hair, yanking it back to reveal your red and tender neck. Quickly, he leans forward to place open-mouthed kisses along the faint swollen hand print. The sensitivity of your neck translated to the increasing sensitivity between your legs.

"I - I love you, too, Spence," you say breathlessly, reaching down to gently rub your clit in a desperate attempt to release yourself.

"Oh, how pitiful, angel. Are you close to cumming again?" he murmured, nibbling gently on your earlobe and grasping both of your ass cheeks firmly.

All you can manage is a whimper of confirmation as your eyes close and your breath tightens.

"We can cum together, okay?" he hums, feeling your walls tighten around his pulsing dick.

"Y-yes, please, please," you faintly whisper, your clit becoming nearly numb with pleasure.

Spencer readjusts himself underneath you to hit your cervix perfectly, eliciting a genuine sob of pain and need from your lips. His grip on your backside became close to clawing into your skin, but it only increased the euphoria of your ever approaching high.

A few more deep thrusts was all it took for both of you to fall apart. Spencer cried out your name with sweat beading against his brow while he released his seed deep into your throbbing core. You nearly collapsed on top of him from the weakness of your thighs as they shook with your release. The tightness of his grip only grew as he lifted you up and down a few more times to make sure that you were completely full of him.

As both of you came down from your high, you found yourself kissing one another with a tired passion that was full of the most permeating intimacy. The nearly drunken feeling that it caused was suddenly cut off by Spencer's hand placing a stingingly firm slap upon your ass.

"I think I left a mark," Spencer said teasingly, examining your throat and backside.

"I sure hope so," you respond, bringing his hands up to cup your breasts.

He places a soft kiss upon your lips before saying, "So, you're saying I should wear these more often?" Spencer twirls his pinky ring suggestively.

"You better," you said, toying with his hands. "I'd like to wear my necklace more often, too."

Bringing you into a deep embrace, he chuckled lightly, "Your wish is my command, angel. And how could I possibly deny you?"

please feel free to request! (or let me know what you think!)

[0vereasy]

Life’s Creation and Love’s Manifestation Chapter 2 - Dr Ratio x Female reader

Summary: Your promotion as one of the heads of the Security Department at Herta’s Space Station was full of many headaches, one of the biggest being a visiting scholar from the Intelligentsia Guild and a delegate of the IPC, Dr. Ratio.

When you were forced to team up with him to solve several crises emerging at the Station, how will your tense relationship change? And what exactly is the Doctor hiding?

A/N: Thanks so much for the support on Chapter 1! Hope Chapter two is just as enjoyable! Note that this contains spoilers for the first half of the Trailblaze question in 1.6, including spoilers about the new boss. The Trailblazer is kept gender neutral so feel free to picture whoever.

AO3 link

Taglist: @96jnie

Comment or send me an ask to be added to the taglist!

Previous Chapter | Masterlist

Chapter 2: Tough Survival

Word count: 7.0k+

“Why exactly do you need to go in the Seclusion Zone again?” you asked, eyebrow raised at the Trailblazer standing beside you in the Storage Zone, you tapping your foot impatiently as you both waited for the elevator to arrive. It was taking longer than usual, the display panel showing the elevator’s current location showed that the metal tube was forced to make the long trip from the bottom of the station back to your location. Your arms were tired of lugging shit around this god-awful Space Station, your full water bottle and heavy-duty laptop making your arms ache as shifting them slightly in your arms from where you stood.

Unfortunately, your comfort was also not aided by the person standing in beside you. In all honesty, the Trailblazer had been giving off weird vibes since their arrival at the Station late last night; even now they wouldn’t meet your eye despite standing beside you, shuffling slightly in their spot. You weren’t the first, and definitely wouldn’t be the last to admit that they weren’t exactly the brightest bulb, but hey, neither would you, and you could tell there was something more to their evasive answers.

“Completely legal business that is completely ethical and not dangerous at all!” they exclaimed, forcing a laugh as they scratched the back of their neck awkwardly. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes as you followed them into the elevator. You turned to watch the doors close, ensuring you were both firmly in the metal carrier before you set your laptop and water bottle down, bending at the waist to do so. You straightened once more, cracking your knuckles. To their credit, the Trailblazer quickly picked up on your action, backing themselves as far away from you as the small metal tube would allow them, “What are you-”

You turned from the elevator door to face them, arms moving up and grabbing them by the collar of their white shirt, pushing them against the back wall of the elevator. Their amber eyes widened in shock at your actions, hands lifting in a vain attempt to pull your own digits from their shirt collar. Your grip only tightened at that, pushing them more firmly into the wall in a way you expected would leave a few bruises.

“Look, I’m trusting you today; you’re the Station’s saviour after all, and you have Madam Ruan Mei’s access card,” your gaze dipped from their golden eyes to the card hanging around their neck, the picture of Ruan Mei gazing back at you as if the Genius was in the elevator right now, mocking you. You moved your face closer to their own, using your hand to tilt their chin down slightly to make sure they looked you in the eye, “But if I find out that you do anything to threaten the safety of the Station while were down there, I won’t hesitate to deal with you myself.” You whispered those last words in their ear after shifting your head to the side slightly. You moved your head back to speak again, “Capeesh?”

“U-Understood, Miss Y/N,” came their studdered response, their face visibly flushed and mouth slightly agape as they stared up at you. You sighed, releasing their shirt, though your body lingered close to their own for a second, keeping them on guard despite your hands lowering to your sides. You bent down once more to pick up your items, though this time you kept your gaze focused on the Trailblazer as you did so before inevitably having to turn your back away from them to face the buttons on the elevator panel.

God, you were getting real tired of pinning people against walls. What was this, twice in one week? Must be a new record, if not it was at least a personal best score.

“Great!” you exclaimed, turning to flash a smile over your shoulder at them. Despite the friendly nature of the action, their body flinched backwards, “Come on, don’t be like that, you know I can’t play bad cop for long,” you shrugged, turning your head back to the button panel,”let’s go then,” you shifted your laptop under your arm so you could grab your key card hanging around your neck, pushing it against the access scanner on the wall of the elevator. A green light flashed on the scanner, approving the descent, while a second green light from a panel above it turned on, the light moving across your face as a robotic voice confirmed your identity. After the light turned off, you pressed the lowest button on the elevator panel, turning to look at your companion again once the elevator started descending, “That’s why the elevator wasn’t moving earlier.”

“H-Huh?” the Trailblazer was still clearly flustered from earlier, as they looked at you blankly as if not truly processing your words, a familiar look for them really. Even from your spot a few feet away from them, you couldn’t mistake the flush on their cheeks or the way they fidgeted slightly with their hands. You allowed yourself to roll your eyes this time, taking a swig from the water bottle in your hand, the ‘water’ burning your throat nicely as it went down.

“Theirs a dual processing system!” you announced proudly after swallowing, turning to look at the panel. You pointed first to the key card scanner, “This device scans a key card,” your finger then moved to the panel above it, “and then this one scans the person’s face to make sure their identity matches the card they scanned!” you turned to look at the Trailblazer again as you leaned against the wall of the elevator with a smirk, crossing your arms confidently, “That’s why it wasn’t working earlier when you tried to use Ruan Mei’s card without me! I designed it after the Legion attack to try and increase Security; I know, I know, I’m a genius.”

“You sure change moods fast, Miss Y/N,” the Trailblazer sighed, though their body language was already slightly more open from before, their amber eyes clearly meeting yours and their feet planted firmly on the ground. You forced down a smile at the change.

“Come on Trailblazer, you know me, I’m not meant to play the serious security roll for long. Like I said, I can only play bad cop for so long before I clinically go insane,” you huffed dramatically, standing up straight so you stop leaning on the metal wall, “Besides, it’s my day off, I threatened you for safety purposes only, obviously.”

The Trailblazer opened their mouth to respond, but their attention was instead caught by the slowing of the elevator as it reached it’s destination. As the doors of the elevator opened, they looked between you and the dark space beyond skeptically, breathing slightly heavily as you took your first few steps into the Zone.

“Why is it… so dark?” The Trailblazer asked you, as you both stepped into the empty corridor. The, elevator ascending back up behind the two of you, leaving the only source of light as the stars and planets beyond the Space Station windows. Compared to the rest of the station at this hour, everything was quiet, as one would expect for a Zone locked away from the public. Your eyes scanned the place as you both walked, lingering at the work station in the distance voluntarily, before you forced your gaze to look at your companion again.

“Energy saving mechanism,” you explained casually, steps large and confident compared to the small skeptical ones of your companion, “you should see Herta’s energy bill, yeesh, I know the IPC have a payday everytime Topaz comes to collect our debts,” you explained, “No one really uses this place, so the lights are motion activated to save us some credits, they’ll come on soon.”

You both paused at the sight of a little robot in front of you, the glowing red light from its body serving as the only other source of light down in the dark Zone. Much like the little helper bots around the Space Station, the white robot seemed innocent enough. Well, that was until it decided to turn suddenly to look at both you and the Trailblazer, the red lights on its face flashing angrily for a moment beyond the cracked glass of its scanning screen, causing the Trailblazer to take a nervous step back.

While the Trailblazer flinched beside you, you merely huffed in annoyance, waving at the robot calmly, “Don’t be like that stupid, it’s just me!” the red lights of the robot dimmed at your voice, while the lighting for the floor seemed to come on given your waving, bathing the main floor of the security zone in red lights lit up from the panels serving as arm rails around the platform. The robot quickly flew off to its proper position as you turned to face your companion, “Sorry ‘bout that, the robots down here are designed for security so they can be a little extra when someone new comes around.”

“Right…” the Trailblazer murmured, still clearly taken aback by all the events they had witnessed in the past five or so minutes. You almost felt bad about pushing them against the door now… well, almost. They did give some interesting reactions after all.

“Anyway, from here Ruan Mei’s card will allow you access to whatever you want,” you explained, pointing towards an elevator opposite to the one you emerged from, the elevator in the same direct the robot had scurried back to, “That elevator there will take you down to the research and curio storage area. I’ll stay here til you’re done whatever the hell Ruan Mei put you up to.”

“Thanks again Miss Y/N… sorry for bothering you on your day off!” the Trailblazer scurried away before you could reply, clearly anxious for a chance to get away from you, not that you could blame them exactly. You let them go, watching their anxious form get onto another much more welcoming elevator than the one you currently stood in front of.

It was only when they began their descent, metal doors closing behind them, that you spoke, “I didn’t expect to see you here, Doctor,” you commented, turning your gaze from the elevator back towards one of the two work stations on the ground level of the Seclusion Zone where Doctor Ratio stood, “Have nothing better to do than hang out in dark rooms all day? I wonder what the IPC would think if they heard their delegate had nothing better to do than waste their time.” You hummed playfully, moving towards the workstation he was at.

The doctor merely scoffed, the sound slightly muffled by that stupid alabaster head that he had on again today, “Those are the words you decide to greet me with today, really?” he sighed, as if disappointed, “I expected much more from you after our previous encounter.”

“Much more?” you echoed, shooting him a puzzled glance as you plopped yourself down at one of the chairs at the workstation, sighing at the relief of finally being able to put your items down for a longer period of time. You shook your hands out in front of you, as if trying to shake off the built up tension within them accrued from your long period of lugging things around, “What, were you expecting me to push you against a wall again until you lost all your inhibitions? Sorry to disappoint you, Doctor, but I think I’ve reach my kabedon quota for the month.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” the Doctor rebutted with hostility as he sat down in the chair a few feet away from your own, “I obviously expected an apology after our previous encounter. In fact, I’ve expected an apology for the last five days since our previous meeting. And yet you avoid me! Does this Space Station have no shame? No desire to maintain diplomatic relations between important parties?”

“What, you want me to apologize for doing my job? It’s my day off, I’m not apologizing for shit,” you said bluntly, moving your gaze away from him to flip open your laptop, one hand shielding the other as you typed in your password. You didn’t exactly know how he managed to see through the stupid alabaster head, but you weren’t about to put your laptop’s safety at risk.

“You and I both know, Miss Y/N, that embarrassing and threatening a guest and pushing them against the wall is nowhere within your employment description!” he exclaimed dramatically, crossing his arms across his chest like an angry child.

“It is when the guest is acting like a little shit,” you shrugged, watching your computer screen as the device turned on. You could hear the sound of him opening his insufferable mouth to speak again, forcing you to speak sooner, “Besides, I’m sure you’re happy to know that I received internal punishment from Arlan already. I don’t owe you anything.”

“It is satisfying to know that actions do have consequences in this Station,” he removed the alabaster head, revealing a sly smile below it. God you wished you had the freedom to punch his pretty face, especially right now, as you watched his amber eyes scan your appearance, “I must say, your apparel makes much more sense with the understanding that you are off the clock.”

You looked at your own outfit; a simple white cropped top and a high-waisted pair of black shorts that rode up as you sat down, the fabric only barely covering what it was supposed to, “What, you find offence in my outfit, Doctor? This ship is hot all the time, sue me!” You rolled your eyes, forcing yourself to look away from him to your computer, deft fingers quickly moving to reopen the programs you were using before the Trailblazer interrupted you.

“Not a fan of the heat? How interesting,” he retorted from beside you. From the corner of your eye, you could see him picking at his fingernails in mock boredom, “For someone has hot-headed as you, I would expect heat to be second nature.”

“Ha, ha,” you muttered, completely stone-faced, refusing to look at him for a few seconds before a smirk made its way onto your features. You turned in your swivel chair to face him head-on, “I didn’t know my temperature preferences would be so fascinating to you, Doctor. If you’re so interested in my experience with warmth, I could give you an indepth explanation of the last time I was hot and heavy, if you catch my drift.”

“You-” he coughed, cutting his own outburst short, “I can assure you I have no desire to understand you or your… bedroom habits at all.” You snickered at the half-assed retort. Aeones, it was so easy to get under this guy’s skin; you hadn’t had fun in a verbal battle like this in a while. It almost made you sad that this guy would leave the station sooner or later, well until you realized that his departure meant an end to dealing with his arrogant attitude.

“Great, in that case you can happily leave me alone then,” you flashed a mockingly cheerful smile at him before dropping your expression to a neutral stare, “It may be my day off, but I have shit to do… so, shoo.” You flicked your wrist mockingly at him, as if he Peppy begging for attention that you had no time to give. His eyes narrowed at the hand motion.

Of course, he didn’t shoo as you requested, only scootching his desk chair closer to you instead. To his credit, he let a few moments pass, watching you as you reopened all your closed tabs on your computer before he spoke again, as if in mock courtesy, “How did you know I was here?”

“Come on Mr. Ratio, I’m sure someone as smart as you allegedly are knows how eyeballs work,” you commented, focused on your computer instead of him as you scanned the information on the screen, “I know you wear an alabaster head, but the rest of us do have free range of our vision ya know?”

He ignored the quip, speaking once more, “Please do not play dumb with me, Ms. Y/N. You knew I was here the second the elevator arrived at this platform, if not before that. I saw you look this way upon your arrival” You turned your eyes from the screen to him again, stifling a sigh at the unfinished work that kept being put off. At this point, you started to doubt why you even lugged your laptop down here

“Only five people have access to this Zone,” you started, the Doctor blinking twice, as if startled that you were actually answering his question, “Screwllum, Herta, Ruan Mei use this area for their work, and, Arlan and me make occasional trips for security purpose. The geniuses are all in some meeting in some Aeon forsaken corner of the Simulated Universe, and Arlan is working upstairs, soooo.”

“I don’t quite see the chain of your logic,” the Doctor crossed his legs, resting his elbow on his uppermost knee to glance at you again as if you were entertainment. This time, it felt more as if you were an animal at the zoo that he was excited to observe.

“Whose playing dumb now, Mr. Ratio, you clearly know what I’m implying, “ you stared provocatively into his amber orbs, crossing one leg on top of the other. You watched his gaze flicker downwards at the moment, eyes scanning your nearly bare legs, before he forced his gaze upwards again, “The elevator came from this floor when the Trailblazer ‘n I were heading down here, meaning someone or something had to be here. That’s how I knew something was here,” you broke the eye contact, focusing again on the computer, an attempt you were sure was only in vain, “As for how I knew it was you, you didn’t exactly conceal yourself; you know that wearing that head doesn’t make you invisible to the rest of the world right?. If anything, I’m betting you sent the robot off to distract the Trailblazer, just so they wouldn’t notice you standing a few feet away.”

The Doctor chuckled, mockingly clapping his hands, “Bravo, bravo. I must say, you’re logic in impressive for someone of your calibre. If only you had the capacity to understand other areas of knowledge.” He sighed pittily, scooting his chair one more step towards yours.

“How did you get down here?” you ignored his quip, once again meeting his gaze, your features contorted into a frown. The Doctor clearly noticed the shift in your tone, shifting slightly in his chair. Part of you wanted to tease him for the effect your first encounter must’ve had on him, but the other more serious part wanted to find out who was behind the breach in security that you would have to correct during your next shift.

“Oh that? That was a simple task,” the Doctor shrugged offhandedly, regaining any composure he had lost a moment ago, “I simply struck up a conversation with one of your department members? What was her name…. Hmm I suppose I forgot it, or rather did not bother to remember it in the first place,” he shrugged, “Regardless, she seemed rather enthralled for the chance to observe me as she happened to come across me during my morning workout a few days prior,” he smirked at you, “it is funny how people misplace vital pieces of technology at the mere sight of human muscle.”

You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms around your chest, the Doctor’s eyes following your movements again. Aeons, could this dude be any less subtle, “You’re telling me you managed enter your information into the permitted visitor’s list to the Seclusion Zone simply by using your rizz to distract the poor girl while she was on duty?”

“I am unsure of the meaning of…’rizz’ but you are correct,” he smirked as the frustration grew on your expression, “I must say, considering the recent Anti Matter Legion invasion, I would expect more from a security department which must be struggling to win back the trust and support of researchers. What a pity.” You resisted the urge to clench your jaw in frustration, forcing yourself to take a deep breath to release the growing tension in your body.

“And I would expect a delegate from the IPC would have better things to do then visually undress me after illegally obtaining entry to this area,” you retorted, scootching your chair close to his for a moment until your knees touched, ignoring the jolt you felt from the contact. His throat bobbed as he watched you place a hand on his clothed knee, “Does your both know your tendency for sexual harassment? Or am I the lucky one getting to see this side of you.”

“I-If there’s anyone engaging in harassment between the two of us, it is clearly you!’ he attempted to tilt his chin upwards in a show of domination, though the stutter in his tone was as clear as day, “I’ll let you know I have much better things to do than entertain this exacting conversation.” He turned his head away from you, crossing those muscular arms across his chest again. You scanned him for a moment; it definitely was no wonder that the guy worked out, he was built like a statue or something with the girth of those arms. You let your mind wander a few unsavoury places for a moment before you remembered who you were talking to.

“Good to know Doctor,” you said drily, using your feet to push your body away from his, the heat from his knees touching yours remaining on your bare leg. You turned your shoulder, facing your laptop again, this time with the determination to do work, “If that’s the case, you have no reason to stay here. It may be my day off, but I got work to do. So, like I said before, shoo. Leave me alone.” You mockingly waved your hand at him again, eyes still focused on the screen.

You were starting to wonder if the man in front of you had no concept of the words shoo, as he once again scooted his chair closer to you, this time his eyes focused on the computer. Based on his demeanour, he had already, his movements made with no hint of hesitation. You did your best to ignore him, even the wheels of his office chair nudged the wheels of your own, his chair now firmly placed directly behind you. You could feel his breath on your face and sense the heat from his toned body as he leaned in, as if wanted to get a closer work at what you were doing. The tension resting between you two was hot and electrifying, leaving goosebumps on your skin and, despite the disgust rising in your stomach, a slight heat on your cheeks. To your credit, you kept your features neutral, even as his toned arm accidentally brushed against your elbow resting firmly on the chair, the feeling of his firm muscles only adding to the heat surrounding the two of you. You forced your fingers to move expertly across the keyboard, glad the motions were well-trained and familiar to account for the brain fog that this whole situation was giving you.

The Doctor was the first to speak, breaking through the growing atmosphere between you two, “You know how to code?” he questioned, no hint of a quip in his tone as he watched your fingers move, line after line of a carefully typed code appearing on your screen.

“What, no insult with your words Doctor? Getting soft on me?” you teased, a closed-lip smile taking over your face, though your focus remained on the screen, “I know how to code,” was your simple confirmation. A moment of silence passed between you two, as if he was trying to process the information.

“Why?”

The one-word reply broke your concentration, your eyes finally leaving the screen to face the Doctor beside you, his hand on his chin once again, as if in thought, “Are you seriously asking me why I can code? Why not? We leave in a free universe after all,” you held back an eye roll.

You were surprised, even slightly creeped out, when he replied again without a quip attached to his words, “By the way you’re typing, you clearly have experience with this. Given your young age, and the fact you have worked your way up to a senior position in the Security Department on a renowned station, you must have learned outside of a place of formal education,” you blinked dumbly at his lines of reasoning. Maybe this dude really was a genius, “So yes, Miss Y/N, I am asking why.”

You let a few moments of silence pass before smirking at him, “So, you think I look young?”

“Is that really all you picked up from that speech? Perhaps I am giving you too much credit your intelligence,” he scoffed, watchful eyes noticing you stifle a chuckle in your hand. Ah, finally, you worked another quip out of him.

“If you are so curious to know more about me,” you started, the mix of playfulness and seriousness in your words calming his agitation, “I used to work for Lady Asta’s family before I worked here,” you shrugged, “A while back, her family wanted a new security system, and the ones offered by the IPC are either overpriced or stupidly designed,” she flashed him a sly smile, “No offence of course. So, I borrowed some books from the library about coding, and I taught myself. That’s all there is to it.”

“So you are self-taught,” he pondered to himself, “quite interesting. At least you manage to possess intelligence in some areas, even if you happen to be an idiot in most others.” You laughed out loud at that one, earning a strange, long look from the Doctor that you couldn’t quite read.

“Aww, Doc, is that a complement I hear? Guess I can’t blame you, I am a woman of many talents after all,” you smirked at him, leaning back in your chair to invade his personal space, your arm brushing his own as you did. Flesh lingered on flesh for a moment until he pulled the limb away.

“If that is your definition of a complement, you are a greater idiot than I suspected,” he snapped back, the speed of which he defended your remark being oddly quick. You watched him as he scooched his chair further away from you, the warmth of his skin on your own still lingering on your arm.

“Hmm, whatever you say,” you hummed playfully, noticing the way the Doctor swallowed heavily at your teasing, “I answered your little questions, can you leave now? The Station’s security system can’t exactly maintain itself ya’ know?” You knew you should turn back to your laptop, but witnessing the Doctor like this was just too good of a reward to give up.

“You designed the security system?” he asked, tone of genuine curiosity instead of judging disgust. Wow, he must really be growing soft on you.

“How else do you think I got promoted exactly?” you raised a teasing eyebrow, “I’m not exactly the model security guard,” you let your eyes gesture to your water bottle, a knowing look passing both of your faces as you took a swig of the alcohol inside, “I had to earn my promotion elsewhere. So yeah, I did design the system; well, really I just replaced the old one from before Asta, Arlan and I got here,” you shrugged, “Same difference. I’m sure you’re glad to know the very system causing you headaches upon arrival and preventing the docking of your ship was my own! Does it feel nice to know that you physically couldn’t drive your ship forward because of my external protection shield?”

“It explains why the system is as infuriating as you,” he explained drily, tone unamused at your quips. You opened your mouth, a playful comment on the tip of your tongue, before both you and the Doctor were distracted by the sound of the farther elevator returning to the main floor of the Seclusion Zone. You and the Doctor watched in silence as the metallic door opened, the Trailblazer strutting over to you with confusion in their eyes. A quick glance told you that the doctor had repositioned his alabaster head, leaving only his figure exposed.

“Whose this?” they asked you, gaze flickering between you two. You were happy that, either given their confusion or just their pure ignorance, they failed to recognize the heat that had built between the two of you, as if their one-track mind could only focus on one stimulus at a time. You weren’t exactly prepared to explain the source of the tension.

“He’s not important,” you commented drily. Despite the alabaster head on the Scholar’s body, you almost felt that you could see him glaring at you, “Did you find what you were looking for?”

“I gotta take that other elevator; go to the bottom floor,” they explained, eyes flickering to the second metallic elevator, closer to the main elevator you had descended from earlier. You recognized the hesitation in their tone, causing you to raise an eyebrow.

“That’s fine… but you good?” you questioned, “Is something down there?” you paused for a moment, as if waiting for an answer, before sighing, “Oh right, I forgot that you’re doing that whole not talking thing. Whatever, it’s fine, I can come with, if that would make you feel better.” You flashed them a smile that you hoped was reassuring despite the less-than-civil encounter you had with the Trailblazer earlier. Luckily for you, it seemed to be reassuring enough, as they matched your expression back.

“Honestly, that’d be great, thanks Miss Y/N,” you could almost visibly see the tension leave their body, shoulders relaxing and breathing settled. Their own relief caused the smile to remain on your face before the grating sound of the Doctor’s voice invaded your thoughts.

“So? Get on with it then,” the man beside you finally regained his composure, huffing at the two of you, “Are you waiting for a sign? Time is ticking, descend via the elevator, what you seek is there.” You cocked an eyebrow at the knowing tone, forcing you to look at the Doctor, standing to place one hand on your hip.

“And how would you know, Doctor, what my friend here is looking for?” you strutted into his personal space, finger poking his closed chest accusingly. His covered head tilted down as if following the motion, before tilting up again. The action was probably a mistake, you recognized, doing nothing to quell whatever the hell you two had built up a few moments prior, but if you were good at anything, it was threatening people.

“It appears, Miss Y/N, that you became so caught up in our banter that you failed to ask a vital question; why am I here in the first place?” your finger lowered in shock as you listened to the words, the scholar taking the chance to stand and turn his back to you, leaving you face-to-face with his muscles as he talked to the Trailblazer, “I know exactly who you are, and I am aware you are in Ruan Mei’s employ. This was not my intended destination,” he turned his body to face you, giving you know choice but to tilt your head upward to meet his gaze, or else be sentenced to look at his toned chest, “If your Miss Y/N had the intelligence to question why I was here, instead of merely question how, she would have been able to tell you that I just happened to find my way here during my visit, and saw what she was up to. My goals are roughly aligned with yours. Since you’re here, I won’t intercede. That’s all you need to know.”

The Trailblazer merely blinked, as if struggling to process the words, “Sooo, what’s with the alabaster head?” Though you couldn’t see the Doctor’s expression, you could almost picture the way his jaw must have dropped at the casual comment, a thought that would’ve made you laugh, if not for the rising suspicion you had of the man.

“My question exactly,” you huffed, rolling your eyes. At least you and the Trailblazer could agree on one thing. Unlike when you made comments about it the other day, though, the Doctor kept the head firmly in place.

“Because I can’t bear to see idiots. Of course, they wouldn’t want to see me either,” the Trailblazer once again stared blankly, earning a sigh from the Doctor, “Regardless, the real Ruan Mei’s creation is hidden in the giant incubator below us.”

“Incubator?” you questioned, though besides a sparing glance, no one offered you a reply, “Ruan Mei’s creation? Aeons, I’ve about had it here with that woman and her stupid ecological research.” you rolled your eyes.

“You two best hurry. Go. Take the elevator and bear witness to this ‘Genius Masterpiece,” as if feeling confident in his reply, the scholar turned on his heel to leave, strutting towards the central elevator.

“We are definitely having a chat about this later!” you called after him, not bothering to hide the anger in your tone. The man of the hour merely glanced over his shoulder, alabaster head still in place as he pushed the button to the elevator. You hated how his muscles flexed at the motion, leaving your lips empty of threats for a moment as the elevator descended quickly to your level, and opened up to allow him access to the upstairs.

“I will look forward to that conversation then,” was his simple reply as he stepped inside, “I wonder what pathetic insults you will manage to muster this time” The metal doors closed behind him, leaving the room temporarily basked in silence. You were grateful for the chance to force your anger back down.

“Let’s go,” you nodded to your companion, following their lead as they rushed towards the other elevator, hurriedly pressing the button, as if their quick finger movements would make the machine arrive faster, “Care to explain what this incubator is, exactly?” you raised an eyebrow as you both waited.

“Can’t,” was their only response before they rushed into the now open device, forcing you to hurry after them.

“Rude, what did Ruan Mei do to you exactly” You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms as the machine started to descend. You spoke again, knowing that they, for whatever reason, couldn’t provide you with an answer, “Whatever, I’ll know soon enough anyway. Aeons, this day is exhausting,” you attempted to force the tiredness out of your eyes, your relatively calm demeanour contrasting the stress building up on the Trailblazer’s features. Their growing stress, though, was starting to give you some second thoughts too. They may not be the brightest book on the shelf, but they had fought a plethora of beasts in their short lifespan. The fact that whatever was down here was stressing them out was almost ominous.

Soon enough, the elevator arrived in the bottom room, forcing you and the Trailblazer to step out, your eyes immediately widening, “The hell? What did Ruan Mei do to our old welcome hall?” you groaned, taking in the giant broken device hanging above, dripping some type of fluid on to the floor, “Does she even know how long it takes to clean these floors? Aeons, she’s insufferable.” The normal lightening down in the hall wasn’t flickering on, leaving the round, circular space bathed in an eerie red light. Ruan Mei had replaced the old chandelier with some sort of investigation which clearly wasn’t safe or ethical, the thing suspended above the ground haphazardly.

“I think that’s the least of our problems right now, Miss Y/N,” the Trailblazer muttered, gesturing for you to look further up. You did as they told you, following their lead, both of your eyes widening what you saw. Flying right at you was a giant blue bug, probably 20 feet tall with sharp stingers and an even sharper, angry expression. The Trailblazer was quick to react, summoning their bat and swinging it at the creature in a vain attempt to drive it off. You quickly summoned your own weapon, a black pistol, pointing it in the creature’s direction.

“What the fuck is that thing?” you exclaimed, dodging out of the way when the bug flew at you two again, stifling a groan as your body hit the ground hard, your knees taking the brunt of the impact. You were quick to get your feet back under you, forcing any vertigo out of you and aiming the gun once again as the creature flew around you. You waited til it stilled momentarily to fire a shot, not wanting to risk something more reckless in a closed space with the Trailblazer around. Not that the shot made much of a difference anyway; the creature only shrieked, flying once again as if not in danger at all.

“It’s an emantor of propagation clone! How could this be…?” the Trailblazer muttered from beside you, swinging the bat hard at the big again when it charged you, not caring as he got hit in the side by one of the claws, “Miss Y/N, we gotta defeat this thing fast, otherwise the swarm will-”

Before he could finish his sentence, you watched in horror as the bug paused, making a noise somewhere between the sloshing of water and squishing of something slimy as the one bug turned into two… and then four. The replication process caused a gust of energy to swirl around the enclosed space, the force of the gust pulling you and the Trailblazer closer and closer to the center of it.

Struggling to keep their footing, the Trailblazer fell to the ground, unaware of the several bugs flying in their direction. You were quick to grab them by the waist, dragging them to the side forcefully to dodge the onslaught of attacks, throwing caution to the wind to fire your weapon at the smaller bugs. However, with the force of the dodge, and the continued harsh breeze, you too fell to your knees, leaving you to hold up your pistol protectively as the bug continued to swarm around you.

“Miss Y/N!” the Trailblazer exclaimed, pointing up in horror. Your eyes widened as the larger bug created something seemingly akin to a black hole above you, the large ball of energy blowing a dark blue colour as it grew bigger and bigger. You pushed the Trailblazer’s body behind you in vain, wondering how the hell you were supposed to get out of this situation as the ball grew bigger and bigger. You had half the mind to tell the Trailblazer to run off, to get out of there before the both of you were killed.

At the moment you truly felt helpless. It’s funny how we can take life for granted, living day after day without a care in the world, until some crazy genius lady creates a bug that threatened the safety of hundreds with her stupid creation. Your body still on top of the Trailblazers, you held them protectively, hoping that at least they would survive, even if that meant your untimely demise. Someone had to protect the researchers, and if that couldn’t be you, at least you knew that the Trailblazer would have it covered. You stared at the growing blackhole, accepting whatever fate you would be dealt.

That was, until everything exploded, the blackhole shattering into pieces as if the creature was made of shards of glass. Above you, the five bugs shook violently for a moment, their bodies growing larger and larger before they exploded into pieces. A trail of blood and guts rained down on the two of you like some messed-up version of a snowstorm, coating your body in a slimy substance that you sure as hell hoped would wash out in the bath.

You let yourself lay there for a second, your body still on top of the Trailblazers, just trying to catch your breath. Your heart was thumping like crazy, as if your body, like the bug, also was on the brink of explosion due to the build-up of adrenaline. You forced yourself to breathe, though the breaths were still shaky as you moved your head to view the surrounding area.

“Hey… it’s okay now, were safe,” you moved your body off of your companion below you, tone gentle and reassuring. They slowly opened their eyes, as if shocked to be alive. Given what you both had just seen, you were in no position to judge them for their reaction. A few more seconds of that thing and you both would’ve been toast.

“It’s over..?” they questioned, voice as shaky as their wobbly legs as they stood. You were quick to stand to, steading them by placing a gentle hand on their back “Are you okay Miss Y/N?”

“As good as one can be after almost dying, I guess,” you moved your hand away after they regained their balance, observing the piles of bug guts surrounding the two of you. You realized then that you would probably be tasked with cleaning all this up, causing your face to recoil in disgust.

“...I…I need to get some answers out of Ruan Mei,” the Trailblazer muttered, body still shaky as they turned from your form, “Thanks for the help Miss Y/N… I really owe you one.” They didn’t wait for a reply, simply dragging their tired body to the elevator, leaving you alone in the room, your hear still hammering out of your chest.

As you stared at the mountains of insect guts coating the bottom of the incubator room, only one thing came to mind.

“I really need a raise…”

[lokisgoodgirl]

The Feast [Asgard!Loki x Fem.Reader]

A follow up one-shot to Hail, Commander A Link to my Masterlist is HERE Summary: A filthy Commander Loki is ravenous post-battle. (w/c 1.7k) Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI. Smut. Oral (F), Salirophilia (dirty Loki) Exhibitionism. Language.

The approaching drums were deafened by a low roar from Loki’s throat as he came undone. It was harsh. Ragged. It was fierce. The rush of hot breath flooded your ear, carrying the syllables of your name on wings of relief. His grip on the cape wrapped around you both loosened as he rocked you; held against the sharp drop of the balustrade safely in his arms.

“My love…” you whispered against his moist, dirt soaked brow, as Loki panted heavily into the curve of your neck. He hummed drowsily in response, hips continuing a gentle thrust to the beat of the victory procession hundreds of feet below. The heat of your lovemaking had warmed the primal scent clinging to his scalp, its tendrils winding their way deeper into your senses. The first time he had returned from battle, it had disgusted you. For a moment, at least. But now, your body only wanted more. It meant victory. It meant glory. It meant days of violently passionate fucking while he shook off the animalism and barbarity of war. You ran your fingers through his tangled hair, crusted and clumped with the stale filth of battle. The scent of blood and sweat and death clung to your fingertips, a tacky residue holding fast as you worked your digits to the back of his skull. Hail, the fallen; the lone chanter cried, hundreds of feet below. His voice was soulful and solemn, misting around the high towers like summer pollen. Hail, the shuffling crowd reprised in a haunting hymn. You didn’t know if it was the adrenaline bubbling down in your blood after Loki had thoroughly claimed you, but they sounded louder now. Or maybe it was just the wind. Loki’s grip tightened around your thighs, sliding upwards. His thumbs pressed into the crooks of your pelvis, pushing your legs wider. Without raising his head, he sank to his knees; war-ravaged leathers creaking as layers of festering dirt and grime cracked. His hands settled around the pristine skin of your thighs, marking them instantly.

“Loki…” you whispered warily, glancing up to the guards standing to attention, their gazes fixed in a thousand yard stare. Hail, the deliverer; the dark victor; the faceless voice sang, soulful reverence bouncing between golden turrets which glinted in the setting sun. Hail, Loki. Hail; the crowd chanted like a prayer in the depths below the balustrade. “Loki…” you murmured again, as trumpets blew a regal tremor alongside the eerie thump of ceremonial drums. “The guards…” The victorious god chuckled against your skin before he slid his cheekbone firmly up your thigh, a possessive harshness glinting in his eyes. “I am their commander. They will do as I say.” he growled coldly, his stare never leaving yours. A muscle in his jaw bobbed as he clenched, a ferocious haze descending over his features. He turned a stained cheek to the side, the marr of slaughter and destruction smeared messily where he had rubbed against your leg. He placed a wet kiss on your knee before he spoke. “Guards! About turn.” he roared.

Your gaze fluttered from your betrothed to the dozens of Einherjar standing to attention against the columns lining the balustrade. In perfect synchronicity, each one turned in a tight semi-circle to face the interior walls. They thumped the base of their spears against the stone in receipt of their order, the cold clunk of metal making a wave of arousal flip in your stomach. His presence. His power. You had almost forgotten. Almost.

Loki’s fingers resumed their iron grip around your thighs, sliding the hem of the dress gathered around your hips higher. “I trust this satisfies you…” he murmured, the brilliant blues of his irises startling against the shadows of brutal deeds layering his face. You thrust forward, aching to feel him against you; letting your hands wander over the buckles of his armour.

The leather felt ragged beneath your touch; burnt and battered. You could feel the tacky stick of warmed blood beneath your fingertips; the proof of his violent prowess. “We can wait...until...after the feast.” you panted half-heartedly, feeling his cracked lips graze against your freshly cum-soaked folds. Loki looked up from between your legs, the heroic commander on his knees ready to devour your glorious pussy. You could feel his seed pooling in thick drips on the stone below. His eyes were wide, brows slanted in mock innocence. “Oh, love…” he purred darkly, as his softness melted to a mischievous smirk. “But I haven’t eaten in days.” The prince’s nose nudged against your slit, making you groan shamelessly above him. “You know how ravenous I become after the rage of battle, love.” he purred, smirking against your hot, wet cunt. “You would not deny your Commander. Would you?”

You shook your head silently, fingers gripping the side of the cold stone balustrade. Loki inhaled deeply, letting it go with a shuddering sigh. Without another word, his warm tongue melted to your core; licking a flat stripe which made you jerk against his face. The filthy god’s fingers wrapped around your calves, pausing to hoist them over his shoulders. The grime-coated gold of his armoured epaulettes slid against your bare skin; the chill making you buck into his open mouth. Your back arched against the glittering lights of Asgard; darkening skies illuminated by the ethereal glow of thousands of candles held in homage by grateful citizens below. Were they praying to the god kneeling between your splayed thighs? You hoped they were. Loki’s tongue slid in messy kisses against your sex, searching every soft pleasure point as he sucked his sacred cum from your centre. Muffled moans of pleasure sounded against your heat, his unfettered enthusiasm loud and wet against the rock of your hips. The naked curve of your ass scratched against filth-soaked leather as the god suckled your clit, moving in rhythmic swirls that coated your womanhood in waves of unbearable pleasure. Your lover leant you backwards so you hovered at an angle off the edge of the balustrade. Gusts of warm dusk air skated over your bristling skin, melting into the dangerous thrill of his obsession. Hail, the victorious dead; the bellman called below, a resounding chorus following the settling of his words; echoing in the night. Hail. The call made your pussy clench, sweet juices beginning to spill against Loki’s lips. He groaned wistfully, tightening his grip around your thighs hanging against his shoulders. You wound your hands in his hair, feeling the familiar resistant tug of crusted sweat and dirt which covered every war-drenched inch of him.

Hail, our Benevolent Protector. Our God. Hail. Your gaze lingered between your legs, the sight of his unmistakeable dark curls bobbing against folds of silk as he dove further sending waves of bravado through your veins. “Did you think of this while you slit the enemies throats, my prince?” you gasped, feeling him nod slowly against the methodical slide of his tongue. “Did you b-burn their world... and their hope... take their lives, uhhh g-gods... just to feast on the pussy you c-crave?” you murmured, seeing a violent shiver roll over his broad shoulders as he moaned in response.

His nose slid into view as he leant back ever so slightly. He knew when you were watching. He always did.

Slowly, Loki licked from the pucker of your ass to your clit, the width of his tongue hovering against the swollen bundle as he lapped gently. The flat massaged the underside, every soft, soaked caress accompanied by a deep groan simmering in his throat. “Did you...f-fuck...miss the taste of me?�� you whimpered, seeing him nod again with his brow creased in shameless adoration. The pressure of his talented mouth latched to your sex was incomparable; a light wind rustling against your shoulder-blades making it feel primordial. And perhaps it was. You caught a glimpse of your blackened inner thighs as he dipped lower, grime marks from the slide of his skin and the rub of his hair making you as filthy as he. The unspeakable paint of war coating his sharp cheeks and chin rubbed against your swollen sex, eagerly disappearing in messy slurps down the god’s throat as he lost himself between your spread thighs. Loki could feel you beginning to shake against him as you tried to control yourself, a smirk tugging at his dimples as he put on a show. Relishing you falling apart like foam on the shore beneath his tongue. If there was one thing Loki of Asgard loved more than public adulation, it was giving head. You let out a shameless moan as the low blow of trumpets sang beneath the balustrade, a fervent hum from the citizens now gathered in the square below accompanying the conclusion of the traditional victory prayers. Hail, Commander. the bellman roared; the final steps of his journey giving new gravitas to the most sacred chant. Hail, the crowd refrained. Their intensity rose like a wave of heat, wisping against the back of your hair as your head fell back.

“Do you w-want me to..uhhh-fuck, cum in your m-mouth, Commander?” you gasped between shaky breaths. A loud moan shuddered through you as Loki rumbled against your wet slit, a whine of need bubbling on his lips. You wound one hand through his blood-crusted hair, the other clutching tightly around the ledge of stone beneath your ass. A surge of power vibrated as you pressed the commander deeper into your pussy, his searching tongue curling inside your channel as you rocked against his face. How many women in the streets below would slay their own grandmother for what you had between your legs this very moment? And many men, too; you’d wager.

Loki’s grip tightened around your femurs as he smothered himself. He shook his smooth jaw slowly back and forth, teasing every aching inch of protracted pleasure from your approaching orgasm. He would be soaking. The dulled shine of his battle-leathers glinted in the torchlight, dark stains of brown and red and black sliding easily from his armour to your fresh, perfumed skin. Hail, our Victorious Commander; came the final forceful shout; as violently clear as though the man the voice belonged to was standing by your shoulder. Hail, Commander. Hail; the crowd roared in unison. There was a rapturous cheer as the drumbeats quickened, signalling the arrival of the procession to the main square of Asgard set below the balustrade. Loki’s tongue delved deeper against your cunt, his carefully timed laps burrowing against the source of your undoing. You bucked into him, his name a strangled cry in your throat as you tugged gently at tangled curls. Fingernails dragged down the leather of his overcoat, feeling a layer of enemy blood gathering beneath them. With a final twisted groan, you came over his waiting tongue. Hot arousal flooded his mouth, a welcoming sigh of pleasure sounding from the leader of Asgard's victorious forces as you rocked against his face. Loki could spend hours buried in your cunt; although tonight you suspected you would not be afforded that luxury. “Commander?” a low voice muttered nervously. Your eyes snapped up in alarm, seeing a young guard trembling to your side – facing away from the scene. Had he walked backwards towards the two of you? You thought he must have, if he valued his life. Loki was still lost in your heat, carefully gathering every drop of your cum with fastidiously gentle precision. Your fingers ran lovingly under his chin, cupping the angle of his jaw. His sex-drunk eyes rose to yours, stare hardening as he finally registered the unwelcome figure off to the side. “What?” he spat incredulously, not deigning to rise from where he was spread on his knees in full battle armour on the stone before you. The guard cleared his throat. “Majesty, I am bound to ask you to make your way to the feasting hall. The Allfather impatiently awaits your glorious return, Commander” Loki sighed. “Go.” he ordered bluntly, watching with growing amusement as the terrified guard hurried away without looking back. He lowered your legs from his shoulders, rising regally to his full height. Flickering lamplight illuminated his ghostly features, a glistening slick shimmering around his mouth and jaw revealing his familiar perfectly fair skin beneath the dirt. His lower face. It was the only part of him that was clean.

You closed your legs reluctantly, taking the hand of the victorious god and standing from your perch on the balustrade. The silk of your dress fell against your newly dirt-smeared legs, the folds of antique fabric stained with the same unspeakable remnants of battle as your lover. As your Commander. “It’s incredibly obvious that you have been busy on your return, my prince.” you smirked, biting your lip as you regarded his increasingly dishevelled state. If it were possible, he was even more of a mess than before. Loki chuckled, flicking his tangled hair as the new layer of saliva and cum settled against his war-worn features. “My love, it is us...” he purred, raising your hand and turning it over. He set a kiss down on the delicate underside of your wrist, the cracked sheet of grime covering his beautiful face doing nothing to hide the mirth playing beneath it. “They would not expect anything less.”

A/N: Thank you @simplyholl for being absolutely feral the night she read Hail Commander and immediately hitting me up with this mental image. You're the best my lil smut-sugarplum, I hope I delivered on our vision! Tags @muddyorbsblr @imalovernotahater @littledark11 @lokikissesmyforehead @simplyholl @fictive-sl0th @loopsisloops @thedistractedagglomeration @loveroflokiforpoeticjustice @123forgottherest @joyful-enchantress @sititran @jaidenhawke @silverfire475 @michelleleewise @vbecker10 @imalovernotahater @thomase1 @morriggannlostinfandoms @marygoddessofmischief @ravenwings73 @xorpsbane @filthyhiddles @peacefulpianist @yelkmelk @wheredafandomat @mistress-ofmagic @five-miles-over @goblingirlsarah @ozymdias @your-taste-on-my-lips @lokidokieokie @kikster606 @peachyjinx @tbhiddlestan83 @trickster-maiden @astridstark13 @arch-venus25 @nine-leafclover @springdandelixn @smolvenger @fictional-hooman

[fuckmyskywalker]

"Paint the bed red." — Anakin Skywalker.

— CW: 18+, smut! Menophilia. Oral sex (fem r). Blood. | Word Count: 0.5k (not proofread!)

— List of films! | Taglist.

“Trust me,” Anakin whispers, pushing you onto his bed with a hand over your shoulder. “Just lay back and enjoy it.” Lifting his body, Anakin’s flesh hand lifts your nightgown revealing more of your tantalizing skin. Tracing patterns over your thigh, every touch seemed to be invisible to the naked eye but managed to send waves of pleasure, each one bigger and stronger than the last.

A little blood isn’t going to scare General Skywalker.

Lowering your underwear, Anakin takes his time to pull the string of your tampon gently, careful not to overwhelm you. He knows how uncomfortable this situation must be for you, both physically and emotionally… but he also knows that once he crosses this line— and he is dying to do so— there will be no turning back. His prosthetic hand, free of the leather glove cups your breast, pinching your nipple from above the thin fabric of your shirt (which used to be his). “You are beautiful…” He murmurs, tracing every curve and contour as if reading a map of your soul. 

His finger slowly slides in between your folds, making you wince quietly. Anakin’s eyes flicker down to see his digit coated in blood, making his cock twitch inside his boxers. It was his idea to start with; somewhere Anakin read that sex might help with period cramps. And of course… the sick pleasure that he gets from this. The warmth between your thighs was alluring, and Anakin couldn’t help but slide it further. The resistance of your muscles pulsating around his finger makes him sigh against your neck, curling it to rub your G-spot gently.

The action provokes a jolt from your part, followed by a surprised moan. Anakin smiles smugly at the way your body reacts to his touch. “Yes, that’s it…” He says, adding a second finger greedily, using your blood as lube. “I knew you would love this.” Knowing that even in this state he can make you writhe and whine, gives Anakin an egotistical, powerful emotion. He begins to move his fingers inside you more vigorously, changing positions and quickly settling himself in between your parted thighs. 

Using his metallic thumb to pull back the small hood of your clit, Anakin sucks on it while his fingers continue their assault. He can taste and smell the metallic taste of your blood and it makes him groan against your core. Trying his best to match the rhythm of his fingering with the circles of his tongue, he sees you arch your back and cry out in pleasure, your cramps now long forgotten. 

Anakin draws back his fingers only to spread your pussy with his thumbs, smudging some of the blood over your thighs. Diving in, he licks your entrance and moans in satisfaction, lost in a trance of red lust and your characteristic scent. Lowering your eyes to meet his intense gaze, he pulls back only to lick his lips, the blood and glistening arousal smeared over his lips, chin, and even his nose. The sight gives you a mixture of erotic satisfaction and shame, quickly melted by his tongue returning to your dripping hole, eager to ravish you.

“Thank you—” You moan louder, reaching for his golden locks. “Thank you!” 

The cramps are finally gone.

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[tadpolesonalgae]

soft slow sex with helion?

Helion x reader: Sweet Like Peaches[*]

A/N: Give me a melting butter emoji right now 🧈🥞

Warnings: Smut, fingering, tiny bit of biting

Word Count: 1,605

——————————————————————————————————————————————

Quiet sounds of pleasure swap between your mouths, Helion drinking them in like freshly-warmed ambrosia.

His large, dark hands knead the supple skin at your rear, squeezing appreciatively, a noise of guttural need rumbling deep in his chest. Lips quirk up over his own, fingertips splaying across the soft, cream cotton over the broad expanse of his muscled chest, reaching for the golden pin atop one shoulder. With a deft flick, the fabric spills down his body, held tight to his hips by the matching gold belt that’s pressing an indentation into your stomach. Hands grip the lustrous curls of his hair, pulling his mouth closer, tasting him deeper as a quiet moan whispers from your throat—much to his pleasure.

One second, the cool metal of the buckle is grazing the curve of your stomach, then he’s gently pushed you back, mattress dipping as he settles atop you, lips softened in an intimate smile, pulse spiking at the sight.

“Come here,” you mumble, hands outstretched, needing to feel the deep heat of his skin against your own. Helion laughs lowly but obeys, one powerful, golden-snake-wrapped arm sliding beneath your upper back, pulling from the bed as his head dips, mouth opening over your own, tongues pressing together as he settles between your thighs.

Moans begin spilling more steadily, quiet pants as calloused and scar-flecked fingers drag teasingly up the outside of your leg, taking the skirts with him, the colour of peaches dripping sun-warmed honey. Teeth gently nip at your lip, spine arching in response, pulling away to glare at him briefly, dragging another deep laugh from your husband. Your mouth opens to speak, but he’s already sealed himself back over, thousands of tiny, colour-dusted wings fluttering in your lower belly as he slowly drags the tip of his tongue over yours, deep amber eyes searing to your own.

You soften into his hold, melting back as he lays you down, your hands lowering to his belt while his slide beneath the thin golden string at your hips, easing away the sopping fabric. Hot aches blossom across your belly, thighs widening once bare, inviting him to come between them. He pauses, thumb brushing just shy of where you want him, taking his time playing and memorising your scent, your skin.

Desire swells in his darkened gaze, swiping across your clit, pushing lightly in soft circles as he watches the day’s tension roll from your shoulders.

“Helion,” you moan on a breath, hips rolling as his fingers prod at the dip between your thighs. “Not tonight,” you ask quietly, arms slung around broad shoulders. Legs wrap tighter around his hips, pulling him closer with a silent plea.

A charming smile plays on his mouth, thick digits slipping easily between your thighs. “I know it’s been a long day,” he says lowly, atop your lips. “But if you think that means you’re going to get this any quicker, then you’re wrong.” Hips buck, fingers curling and touching, his thumb still easing back and forth over your aching clit. “I need you just as badly honey, but you know as well as I do you’ll be sore in the morning if we don’t do this now.” Heat flushes, relenting as digits continue their thorough exploration, seeking out those spots that make you—

A high-pitched sound of pleasure whines out as he takes his time, enjoying the slight bite of sparkling nails into his forearm.

“Would you like me to stop?” He drawls lowly, amusement dancing across his features as he takes in the roll of your hips, the heat from your cheeks, the wetness of freshly-licked lips. “Only if I get you after,” you breathe shakily, pleasure bubbling. His responding laugh feathers over your lower belly, fluttering at the deep timbre. Finger curls and touch until he’s certain you’re ready for him, no longer squeezing tight but relaxed and wet, dripping around him.

He pulls away, and you whimper at the loss, feeling cold and empty, trying to tighten around something needfully. But then his hands have removed the infuriating golden buckle, cream fabric pulled from powerful muscle in a whisper of cotton. Tongue swipes out over your lips, wanting to drag it over his skin, to taste him as he pushes in.

“A little wider,” he instructs, broad palms gently pushing at your thighs, guiding you further apart. Eyes helplessly flick down, mouth watering at the pearly bead of precum nestled at his tip, full enough to be on the verge of spilling over.

Without thinking, your hand slides down to hold him, thumb swiping his head. Muscle tightens, a low breath groaning from his chest at the sensitivity, watching with a hungry gaze as you raise your hand, licking his flavour away slowly, relishing in his taste.

Helion can’t help himself, lining up with your entrance and dipping his head down, hot mouth opening over your own, greedily taking in the mixed flavours. Thighs part wider, hips raising so he can slide deeper, and those mischievous hands of his cup your rear, squeezing hungrily. Snake up over heated skin, bringing the dress higher, removing it swiftly with familiar ease, tossed aside so he can play and palm your breasts.

A thumb grazes your nipple, soft moans warming his mouth, hips pressing forward until they’re tight to the back of your thighs. Needful noises pant from glossy, parted lips, pupils blown wide with arousal as he sinks deep inside of you. So full you can feel him in your lower belly.

“Helion…!” You moan, teeth prodding at your lower lip, hips rolling onto him, encouraging movement.

Your husband groans roughly, resisting the urge to pin you to his bed and pound into you until one or both of you is passing out. But the way you’re arching is only invitation to those thoughts of his, and he has to close his eyes against the onslaught of arousal. He wants to go slowly, really get you to feel him, every sense carved into your mind like how it happens for him, each detail carefully catalogued within the chambers of knowledge and memory.

It’s only once you’ve again relaxed back into the bed, accustomed to the already intense pleasure that he begins to move. Slow, and languid. One hand cradling your head, spine curving with ecstasy, heat and pleasure twining into something soft and syrupy that’s bubbling away in the pit of your belly.

His hand spans your hip, pulling you back against him as the pace begins to pick up, tracing over your stomach to palm your breast. “You know how much I love these?” He asks lowly, wanting to open his mouth over you.

All you can manage is a dazed moan, urging him to speed up, to deliver you that pleasure and heat that’ll have you fluttering around him. “Please…Helion,” you breathe, back bowing off the mattress. “Please.”

A low curse drags from his lips, before straightening, hands splaying across your waist as he sets the rhythm, mouth parting as eyes lock with his own, wide and desperate. “Like that…” you urge, needing more. “Keep going, just like that…” He would never dream of stopping, not when you’re both so near the edge, poised to tumble into each others arms.

Your lips part soundlessly, breath stuttering as he touches a place inside of you that has your nails grappling for something to bite into. He marks the reaction eagerly, a low laugh reverberating at the back of his throat, angling your hips so he can hit that spot again, hungry for your pleasure. “Just like that?” He repeats breathlessly, targeting it over and over as your eyes squeeze shut from the intensity.

“I’m— I can’t—” You gasp, breath shuddering from the ecstasy.

“Then don’t,” he groans, lips attaching to your throat, adding to the marks. “With me,” he urges, moving to the space just below your jaw, teeth coming out to nip. You inhale sharply, hands gripping at his back, slowly driven mad by the simmering pleasure, begging to be released.

All you can manage is a breathless moan before you’re fluttering around him, eyes rolling back as he continues that wonderful pace, hot mouth putting marks into your throat, sucking bruises into your collar bones. The world is speckled through with white dots, thousands of those tiny wings taking flight inside as you arch into him, nipples grazing his chest.

His own high crests, hot cum spilling into you as he grinds his orgasm into your heat, obscene sounds squishing between you, hips rolling and bucking against one another until the pleasure begins to fade, aftershocks washing through flushed skin. You pant deeply, eyes peeking open to find amber already upon you, deep desire swirling. Curls spill forward, tight ringlets brushing your brow as you stare at one another, craving the heat of touch already.

Arms cross over his shoulders, pulling him down to your mouth. He follows easily, groaning softly as his tongue sweeps in, hip rolling lightly, making you arch with sensitivity. Hands touch and explore long after the pleasure has faded, tracing patters tenderly, relishing in the seemingly endless time. Basking in the deep satisfaction of being tangled together.

It’s not until your lids grow heavy that activities cease, your husband settling at your side, the mattress dipping as arms wrap over your waist, tucking you into his warmth.

Hot lips graze your temple, night darkening the room as your scents twine together as they belong, contentedness softening your mind as you sink into sleep. Safe and at peace in his bed.

——————————————————————————————————————————————

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[arainmorn-art]

Franny-boo and her big little brother Edgey is clearly used to it. In their dynamic Miles's emotional stability just shines through, he is her rock, he has a wide warm chest for her to cry into, I love it.

When I was playing AA2, oh gee, how much I disliked Franziska because she was violent and rude towards my himbo babies Phoenix and Gumshoe. I even was pissed that the Judge is so spineless he could not stop this little girl to whip people in the courtroom! But... ungh. Of course I was touched when she cried in front of Miles. And in AA3 I got warmer feelings for her. And in AAI she was adorable. And when she met Debest in AAI2, oh, oh, it was so satysfing when she whipped him x) And when you think a bit longer about her backstory, that she's lost her dad, almost lost her brother, tried to fulfil unrealistic expectations of being a personified perfection most of her life...

So... yeah. I almost like this little dominatrix :D What I've used: • craft paper sketchbook • acrylic markers: white, blue metallic, golden • water-based markers or felt-pens • pencil, black and white pens, ballpoint pen, calligraphy liners • a tiny bit of digital touch (the one with Edgey is coloured digitally) Oh man, it was such a mess on my fingers to mix white and metallic blue acrylic markers on her hair. And altogether trying to paint the skin with waterbased feltpens over white acrylic, baaaaaaaaa, was a pain. I've drawn unnatural skin colours for Undertale and Steven Universe characters like this before, but now I'm figuring how to use the same technique with real skin tones. I love craft paper, but man, it's tricky! The last sketch with Edgey was digitally painted though, as I've almost ruined the lineart with not dry enough acrylic on the same spread sheet, aaaa. Plus there're too many little detailes to easily mess it up with white marker x)

And I've enjoyed drawing Franziska too much. I object. She is still a rude little beast. You will not grow in me, Franziska. I will resist your tsundere charms.

But it was fun.

[bits-and-babs]

✰ 𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐙𝐕𝐎𝐔𝐒 - 𝐒𝐈𝐌𝐎𝐍 ‘𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐓’ 𝐑𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐘

↳ summary: prompt: “This is just a hookup." "I know." — Fed up of your antics, Simon gives you a time and place.

↳ pairing: Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x f!Reader (Delta)

↳ [1k] content: 18+ MDNI. reference to interrogation/violence/torture, sensory deprivation (pitch black), power imbalance, references to masturbation and voyeurism, finger sucking, gagging, against a wall, p in v sex, unprotecte- i know, I’ve got issues.

ghost masterlist I| main masterlist |I join taglist

Skittering chills crawl up your vertebrae as you wait impatiently. The shipping container previously used as an interrogation chamber didn’t make for the cosiest spot, but Ghost hadn’t left much room for argument when he’d informed you of the rendezvous point.

“Container 12, 11 pm.”

He’d delivered it with authority, that barking order that rang out over the coms when bullets whizzed by your ears. Who were you to deny Lieutenant Simon Riley? Refusal equated to insubordination— you couldn’t have him thinking you’re undisciplined.

Casting your eyes over the inside of the container, you grind your teeth together. Dried, rusty-coloured flakes of blood peel from the metal ridges of the walls, and a chair lies discarded on its side in the corner. Standing here alone is unnerving, though you’d never admit it. Perhaps that’s what Simon had in mind- a test of endurance. He was late for the meeting by around five minutes; surely there was no other explanation?

It’s only as you begin to settle into reluctant resignation that the creaking door of the container screeches, pushed forward. You’re, admittedly, relieved to see him. Golden flood-lamp light spills across the floor, haloing Simon’s hulking frame before he shoves the door closed again.

“Lieutenant,” you address him by rank, squinting in the darkness but keeping your voice as steady as you can muster. It’s pitch black, but you’re almost convinced you can see his ghoulish mask sneering at you in the darkness. “You’re late-“

“You’re early,” his gruff voice cuts through the blackness. It sounds odd, the bluntness of the Mancunian accent bouncing off your eardrums. He also appears closer than you realised, his voice abnormally loud for the distance you assumed lay between you.

They were right; he really did move like a spectre.

“You needed me, Sir?” You query, but the words seem to shrivel and die in your throat when a gloved palm settles across your chin, tilting your head up.

“Don’t think so,” he answers, his warm breath fanning over your face. There’s amusement flirting with his tone— only slight, but with your senses on overdrive, it rings in your ears like he’s set off a gun beside your temple. “Think you need me.”

Heat burns beneath your skin, but you grit your teeth and steel yourself against the shock of Simon fucking Riley making such an astute observation.

“Sir?”

“Don’t play coy,” his tone is flat, words slightly muffled as though he had something in his mouth, “Think I don’t hear you? Always moanin’ my name when I’m on watch.”

He’s walking you backwards, stopping his advancement only when your back hits the cold metal of the wall.

You don’t have a chance to dispute his damning point, his naked fingers pushing past the plush of your lips and pressing against your tongue. It’s as though your body falls in line immediately, following his silent orders like a good little soldier. You trace his fingertips with the tip of your tongue, sucking on the length of them as he hums.

“Always raisin’ your voice, hopin’ I’ll hear you. You want me to join you? That it?” He asks, his monotonous accent pooling deep in your abdomen as he continues to call you out for your reckless behaviour. Any of 141 could have overheard.

You open your mouth to speak around his digits, but Simon preempts your pathetic attempt to make an excuse. He pushes his fingers in until his knuckles brush your lips, halfway down your throat. You gag around the intrusion, hand grasping at the bulletproof vest Ghost still wore after returning from his latest mission.

“Fuckin’ dirty girl,” he groans over the filthy sound of your chokes. You can hear the clinking metal of a belt in the darkness, the rustle of khaki fabric and the rip of a zipper. “If I give you what you want, are you gonna stop those pathetic little whines?”

God, it’s ridiculous. You practically trip over yourself to nod the affirmative to his question. Muffled swears rumble in Simon’s chest, intelligible despite the close proximity. You’re already scrambling to pull down your cargos; embarrassment soothed only by the blackness that swallows and shrouds you both.

Ghost grunts softly, pulling his saliva-soaked digits from your mouth. The disappointment of feeling empty doesn’t last very long, his drenched fingers brushing over your pussy lips and plunging deep inside you without warning.

“Fuck,” he practically spits at the squelching sound of your cunt swallowing his fingers. You gasp loudly as he curls them back, brushing against your walls and coaxing a sensitive spot that ripples bliss through your core. “This— This is just a hookup.”

You nod over and over, probably looking like those stupid Churchill-Dog bobbleheads he’d see in taxis at home, babbling the same words over and over as he teases that mind-melting spot inside you that has your thighs trembling; “I know, I know, IknowIknowIkno-“

You feel it before you hear it, the huff of breath before the rumbling growl of dying resolve. A large, bruising hand grabs your thigh and hoists it over Ghosts’ hip. The position settles for only a moment, your tight, orgasm-teased muscles just creaking at the sudden change before Simon’s cock sinks into your dripping core.

The wail of bliss ricochets off the metal walls of the cargo container. Ghost is quick to press his naked palm to your mouth, suppressing your pathetic little mewls as he inches inside of you. You can hear his haggard breaths, can feel the ebb and flow of his exhales as he presses his masked forehead against your own.

“Hoh- Fuck-“ Simon groans out, only slightly rocking into you once he settles balls deep. It’s barely there, but the gentle thrusts have you clawing at his sleeves. Your eyes roll back, his pubic bone grinding just right against your needy clit.

“This is just a hookup-“ Simon insists through gritted teeth, but as a shaky moan falls from his mouth when he begins to thrust into your tight, wet heat forcefully, you start to wonder if he’s attempting to convince you of himself.

You realise he’s losing that battle when he spills inside you with a gasp of your name, quickly followed by an almost desperate ‘just one more-‘

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